


Plan F

by BoudicaMuse



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Attempted Sexual Assault, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jewish Darcy Lewis, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, School Reunion, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-05-31 14:56:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 88,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoudicaMuse/pseuds/BoudicaMuse
Summary: When a routine undercover mission goes awry in Monaco, Clint and Natasha find themselves in need of a little help. Good thing Darcy's in town on vacation to lend a hand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As with all of my fics, what we have here is comics!Clint dropped into no particular time in the MCU.

The television played an old black and white movie in French. The sound was muted so Clint could work on his lip reading, but there were too many soft consonants in French and he ended up just making up the dialogue in his head. He was about to give up entirely and ask Natasha if he could take a turn on surveillance when she slapped the laptop closed and began pacing and spitting out curses. Aw, jeez. This was supposed to be a routine op. 

“What’s up?” He’d taken out his hearing aids and his lip reading wasn't any better with Russian than it was with French. All he had caught from her curse storm was “mудак.”

“You’re on point this time. I can’t show my face,” she signed.

“So am I the asshole, or were you talking about someone else?”

“Someone else, this time,” she signed back with a roll of her eyes. “One of the bodyguards is Josef Karlsson. I had to burn my cover with him the last time I was in Brussels.”

“The fucker who likes to brand women with his ring?”

Natasha just nodded shortly, her nostrils flaring out in barely suppressed rage.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I miss SHIELD. I’m getting really fucking tired of using outdated intel and not having extra field agents on hand,” Clint said. 

Natasha looked like she was about to agree, but cocked her head like she gave him an idea, and turned back to the laptop.

“Nat…” Clint warned. He knew exactly what she was checking and knew exactly what she would find. “Nat, don’t even think about it. Leave her alone.”

She ignored him, opened up an email app and cheerfully tapped out a message.

“Natasha, do not send that.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyebrow raised, and clicked send. Like a cat making eye contact with its owner before knocking over a glass of water. 

“Why do you hate me?” he asked plaintively. Sure, he was a human disaster even on his good days, but he thought he’d been a good friend and partner to her despite that. Why was she so committed to fucking with him?

“Relax. All I did was offer her an upgrade. Put her in position just in case we need her.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“We’ll call it Plan F.”

“What happened to Plans C through E?” he asked. He wasn’t fantastic at undercover work, but surely they wouldn’t need that many contingencies.

“The F is for Fake Girlfriend,” she signed, way too proud of herself.

“I hate you,” he signed back with feeling. Natasha merely shrugged, perfectly at peace with being hated.

* * *

The bride was beautiful, the groom was charming, and the location, a cliffside villa on the Cote d'Azur, was perfectly picturesque. The last weekend had been a whirlwind of last minute emergencies, wine hangovers, and group spa treatments, culminating in the most romantic, twinkle light infested wedding Darcy had ever attended. There was just one last event before they all waved goodbye to the happy couple and Darcy would finally be free to enjoy the destination part of this destination wedding. The dreaded morning after brunch. 

Alex, the charming groom, tapped on the side of his water glass to get everyone's attention for his third speech of the day. Over by the buffet table, Darcy groaned into a croissant. 

“I heard that,” whispered Vanessa, the beautiful bride. “Don't worry, this should be the last one.”

“Sorry,” Darcy said with a wince. “But better you than me.”

Vanessa laughed the perfect tinkly laugh of an Instagram influencer who had just married a minor member of the House of Grimaldi. Which is to say, completely unoffended and unaffected by Darcy’s opinion on her life. They’d known each other far too long for Darcy’s cynicism to make a dent in Vanessa’s titanium self-esteem anyway.

“I couldn't agree more,” she said, tapping her glass of champagne against Darcy's croissant in a faux toast. 

As one of eight bridesmaids, Darcy's role in this wedding had been minor. Provide comic relief where needed, pour mimosas for the more important members of the party, and take pictures with Vanessa's phone constantly so she could keep her nearly one million followers apprised of every detail of the wedding. Really, it was the least Darcy could do for the girl who had punched her first bully in the nuts all the way back in kindergarten. 

They had fallen out of touch for a while after high school when they both moved away for college, but reconnected through the wonders of social media and now texted occasionally. Darcy never would have expected to be asked to be in the wedding, but Vanessa insisted she needed her oldest friend there and was willing to get her rich new husband to pay her way there if that was what it took. Darcy, not being a complete idiot in the habit of turning down free European vacations, said yes. 

“Listen, Alex and I were talking--”

“Surely you had better things to do on your wedding night,” Darcy cut in. But Vanessa had a lifetime's worth of experience at ignoring Darcy's smart ass remarks and continued as though she hasn't spoken. 

“-- and we just hate that you're going to be all alone for three days since everyone else is leaving today. Are you sure I can't hook you up with one of his local cousins to show you around?” 

Alex ended his toast and the assembled friends and family cheered and drank to whatever it was he had just said. The last half had been in French, so Darcy couldn't even be at fault for missing it. Darcy turned back to Vanessa and the earnest worry on her face and felt the odd need to reassure her. 

“Yes, I'm very sure. I'm really looking forward to the time alone. This weekend was so much more fun than I was expecting, but it wasn't exactly relaxing.” 

“No, I guess it wasn't. But I'm so glad you were here to experience it with me. So glad, in fact, that I have one last gift for you. One of Alex's uncles owns the top resort in Monaco. He wants to put you up there for the next three nights. Breakfast and dinner at the hotel restaurant is included,” Vanessa said, handing her a glossy folded brochure.

Inside were pictures of scenic vistas of the Monte Carlo marina bristling with superyachts and vignettes of beautiful people sipping cocktails at the poolside bar, rolling dice in the attached casino, and getting overpriced spa treatments. Another page boasted about their award winning chef and freshly caught seafood. Working as Jane's research assistant paid well now that they were funded by Stark Industries, but this was the kind of place that Darcy would never be able to afford even one day at, let alone three. 

“Vanessa, this is too much. Why would Alex’s uncle even care where I’m staying?” 

“I don’t know, honestly. He approached us about it when he heard from another guest that you would be sticking around after the wedding and staying in a hostel. He joked about us doing some babysitting to pay him back, but Alex said he’s always doing things like this. I’m telling you Darcy, this place is legit. You have to stay there. And maybe take some pictures and do a write up for me? I can’t pay much for a feature on my blog, but you’d be doing me a favor since I’d be able to take a few days off to enjoy my honeymoon. Let’s say 10% of my ad sales in the week it runs for about a thousand words?”

“I’m sorry, you’re trying to give me a free vacation and hire me to write for your wildly successful travel blog?”

“So that’s a yes?” Vanessa asked. She had her hands clasped tight around her champagne flute, her eyes begging and hopeful. 

“I… guess? Sure, yes. I’d be stupid not to, right?” Darcy said. 

“Exactly. I’d have to disown you for being too stupid to be friends with.” Vanessa glanced over her shoulder. “Oh no, now my mom is going to make another toast. That’s like five too many for one brunch.”

“Go. Stop her so you guys can get out of here.”

“Thanks again for coming, Darcy.” Vanessa gave her a big hug. 

Darcy watched her go and took another big bite of her croissant. Despite actually being happy for her friend and having just been handed a free luxury mini vacation, she couldn’t help but feel her mood dip a little. As was usually the case lately, seeing other people be so incandescently happy left a bitter taste in her mouth that all the expertly made pastries in the world couldn’t mask. She should be used to it by now from the constant exposure to Jane and Thor’s shmoop, but apparently not. A relationship of her own would probably help, but prospects were thin on the ground at the Avengers facility where she and Jane were currently squatting. 

The facility was always buzzing with activity, but thanks to the isolated location in upstate New York, most of the campus’s population was temporary. Almost everyone she saw either just came out for a day, or worked there on a short-term contract and commuted in from Albany. If Darcy wanted a shot at a long term, lasting relationship (and she wasn’t 100% sure she did), her choices were either their 90-year-old FedEx driver, or one of the Avengers themselves. Yeah, like that was ever going to happen.

* * *

Only two hours into a high stakes poker game in a private room of Casino de Monte-Carlo, Clint could feel his attention and cover fraying at the edges. He could spend twice as long patiently waiting and watching for nothing at all on a ten-inch wide perch in a tree in the rain with no complaints, but make him play a gregarious card shark and Clint started feeling like a whiny toddler.

A new dealer stepped up to the table and Clint inwardly perked up. The big German to his left was up by twenty thousand and had been drinking heavily since before Clint had sat down at the table.

“Gentlemen, it’s time for my break. Sonia here will be taking care of you. Best of luck.” Their current dealer, Jacques said. He moved to step away from the table and the German lunged across the table and grabbed his wrist, spilling the scotch at his elbow all over Clint. 

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done playing,” the German said. 

Two enormous casino security guards were on him before Clint could even blink. They extricated the dealer and easily hauled the German away from the table and through a hidden door on the far side of the room. A third guard collected the German’s chips while two more guards appeared and took up the empty stations in the corners of the room. The whole thing had happened so fast that there was still scotch running down the inside of Clint’s leg when they were done. He dabbed at it ineffectually with a cocktail napkin. 

Sonia stepped into the dealers position. “Apologies for the disturbance, gentlemen. Shall we continue?”

Looking around the table, Clint could see this was his chance. He’d been betting big and barely staying afloat on purpose to attract the attention of one of the other players and now was the time to see if it had worked. He made eye contact with the guy on his right first, a local who looked annoyed at the pause in the game, and then the guy who had been on the other side of the German, Lorenzo Giordano. 

Giordano was a low level lieutenant of their main target. Natasha had marked him early on in their investigation for ranking just high enough to extend an invitation and for being too stupid to realize he was being played. Now Clint would see if he proved to be just as easy to manipulate with a little friendly conversation as she had assumed. Of course, Nat thought everyone was easy to manipulate.

“It’s been fun, but I think I better take what I have left and save it for another day,” Clint said, standing and gathering his meager winnings. “It’s a damn shame, though. We were finally getting up there with our bets. I don’t really feel like I’m getting my dick wet unless the blind is over a thousand, you know?”

The local scoffed quietly and Sonia gave him an icy stare that made Clint glad he wasn’t sticking around. _Sorry, Sonia._ Clint fought back the urge to voice the apology aloud and left the table, striding out to the main floor of the casino. 

Jogging to catch up with him, Lorenzo clapped Clint on the shoulder. “Just a minute, signore. I know of just the place where you can get your dick wet in more ways than one. That is, if you have any cash left.”

Clint slowed and chuckled. “I’ll have you know, I had you all right where I wanted you. Two more hands and I’d have taken you all.”

“Ah, of course my friend. If only that fat ass German hadn’t ruined it, eh?”

“Some guys just can’t handle the idea of losing, I guess.” Clint spread his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture, like losing tens of thousands of dollars was nothing to him.

“My boss, Benicio, _loves_ poker. He is a real big better, like you, and always looking for new people to play with.” Lorenzo fished a card out of his blazer and handed it over. “Come around 8 tonight. Buy in is one million euros and one girl.”

Clint felt like his brain had just run into a brick wall. “Hang on, I think we’re having a language issue. You don’t really expect me to bring a girl and bet her in the game, right?”

Lorenzo laughed and cautiously, Clint laughed along with him. 

“Oddio, your face! No, no. The girl is not a bet. She’s more of a gift for our host.”

Clint stopped laughing.

“He loves women, you see,” Lorenzo continued. “Likes to be surrounded by them so he is always looking at something beautiful. You and the girl will both go home safe and sound at the end of the night, I promise.”

As hard as Lorenzo was trying to sound reassuring, Clint felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Loving women did not mean treating them like museum pieces in his book. 

“The cash won’t be a problem, but what if I don’t have a girl for him to look at?”

“Then I’m afraid I will have to say good luck on finding a game on your own,” Lorenzo said, reaching for the card. 

Clint pulled it back. “I didn’t say bringing a woman was a problem.” God, he hoped they would all be legally old enough to considered women and not girls. “I just don’t like to share.”

“Your choice, but of course no one will touch her if you bring your own girlfriend,” Lorenzo replied with a shrug. “And Benicio likes to look, but his wife would slit his throat while he slept if he touched. Give me your name. I’ll put you on the list, just in case you change your mind.”

“Grant Miller,” Clint said, giving his blandest cover identity. 

“See you tonight then maybe. Ask for Lorenzo if the guys at the door give you any problems.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you there,” he said, shaking Lorenzo’s hand and hoping he managed to pull off the enthused, grateful look he was going for. He’d never be as good as Natasha at mastering which emotions played on his face.

They parted ways and Clint carefully hid his frustration while he made his way through the heavily surveilled ground floor of the resort and up to the rooms he and Natasha were working out of. The french jazz in the elevator grated on his ears and he wished he could take his hearing aids out just to make it stop, but Grant Miller didn’t have hearing aids and getting the minuscule Stark-made comms/aids out was always a bitch. Half the time he ended up shoving them further into his ear canal and needed someone else to fish them out for him. 

The hotel room door clicked shut behind him and Clint slumped against it, dropping his soaked pants around his ankles and kicking them into a corner. Over at the desk, Natasha took off her surveillance headset and gave him an amused look. 

“Time for Plan F,” she said. 

“Stop calling it that.” He flicked a chip at her face for good measure, but she batted it aside without flinching. “This is a terrible idea. I want to go on record that this is a terrible, terrible idea.”

“So you've said, but if I remember correctly, it was _your_ idea.”

“I made a joke. A really bad, dumb joke like a year ago. I wasn’t expecting you to make it happen like some evil wish-twisting genie. Seriously, let's just hire an escort.”

“Coward,” Natasha scoffed. “Stop whining and go make contact.”

“She in her room?” Clint asked hopefully, even though he knew it was futile. 

Natasha’s smirk could only be described as wicked. “The pool.”

“Fuck,” Clint said quietly, but with feeling. 

Of course she was. Because his day wasn't shitty enough. Now he would have to get up close and personal with Darcy Lewis in a bikini. If he managed to get through the entire encounter without popping at least a semi, he'd eat Natasha’s wig.


	2. Chapter 2

Another frosty strawberry daiquiri appeared on the table at Darcy’s elbow, but when she glanced up, it wasn't her charming cabana boy, Omar, making the delivery. In fact, she barely had a chance to glimpse the face of the man before he was leaning close and whispering into her ear. 

“Don't look surprised to see me, don't use my name, and play along,” he said. 

Then Clint - because now her brain had caught up enough to process the face behind the mirrored aviators and the voice in her ear and came up with _oh hey, I know him_ \- pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and sat on the edge of her lounge chair.

For once, Darcy was at a complete loss for words. Not even her wildest fantasies involved being approached by Clint Barton while sitting poolside at a fancy resort in Monaco. 

Certainly there were plenty featuring him. There was no short supply of beefcake on the Avengers, but she found herself more drawn to Clint over any of the others. He wasn't around as much but it was enough that Darcy had come to appreciate both his wise cracking sense of humor and his impressively large biceps. Despite the many and varied ways he'd shown up in her daydreams, this particular scenario had never crossed her mind. Even if it had, she never would have put him in the outfit he was currently wearing. Boat shoes, board shorts, and a short sleeve button down gave him a distinctly yuppie air. God, even his hair was styled. He was making it work, but it was _weird_. 

“I think I've been in the sun too long. Can we get out of here?” She finally said. Between her kimono-style cover up, the wide-brimmed sun hat tugged low over her ears, and the umbrella casting its shadow overhead, too much sun exposure wasn't likely. Still, it was a reasonable thing to say for someone who had been sitting next to a pool all day. 

Clint’s there and gone again smile let her know she'd done well enough, but instead of ushering her someplace more private to explain just what the hell was going on, he merely nodded at her sweating drink and reached for her bottle of SPF50.

“Finish your drink and we can go. I already settled your bill,” Clint said. He warmed some lotion between his hands and started rubbing it into her skin, his hands moving in slow circles on her legs. 

Darcy did as she was told because, if for no other reason, the frozen drink would give her an excuse for the goosebumps that suddenly broke out all over her body. It was an embarrassingly strong reaction considering he was staying well below her knees, the slide of his rough fingertips on her skin providing the illusion of intimacy without really violating any boundaries. Well, most people would probably consider getting their calves felt up by someone they had only casually spoken to a handful of times before at least a little violating, but it seemed like there were extenuating circumstances here. There had better be. She sucked down her drink a little faster so they could move things along and he gave her leg a little squeeze. 

“Careful, you'll get a brain freeze,” he said, just a hint of warning in his voice. 

Message received, Darcy set the drink aside and licked her lips, casting about for a safe topic of conversation beyond the perfect weather. She was really going to miss Monaco’s mild climate once she was back in the sweltering embrace of New York in the summertime. If she ever got back to New York. Her plane was supposed to leave in four hours and she had a strong suspicion that she wouldn't be on it. Seriously, what the hell was going on?

She finally settled on, “I need to eat something. I've had like five of these things since 10am.”

“Receipt said six,” Clint said with a smirk. 

And it wasn’t even 3:00 yet. Standing up would be fun.

“Well, I was bored. There's nothing to do here except drink and gamble and I'm terrible at Baccarat.”

The pout she gave him was real enough. She'd had to check out of her room that morning and having already seen everything she wanted to see, she'd had few options besides checking her luggage at the bell stand and making use of the poolside bar while she typed up her blog post for Vanessa. It was actually a really good thing Clint had come along to pay for her drinks because her tab had been about to put a serious hurt on her credit card. 

“I know, I'm sorry. I'm all done until this evening. Why don't we go back to the room and I can reward you for your patience?”

* * *

“Oh my _god_ ,” Natasha groaned in disgust in his ear. “How do you ever get laid?”

Nothing like getting heckled by your ex-turned-best-friend while trying to pick up a girl. The worst part was that he couldn't even point out that shit like that had worked just fine on _her_. 

Thankfully, Darcy was already on board with getting out of there and wasted no time in sliding on her flip flops and gathering her things into her backpack, which Clint then slung over his shoulder. He took Darcy’s hand in his and led her back inside the hotel. 

“You look like you're carrying her books to class,” Natasha said with a cackle. “Are you going to sit with her at lunch, too? Maybe neck under the bleachers?”

Clint couldn't risk shooting a glare at the next camera he passed, not when it was so likely that it was more than just Natasha watching. He didn't want to tip off any of the hotel security staff with weird behavior. He settled for pushing the elevator call button with a little extra force. 

Darcy glanced up at him with concern in her wide blue eyes and he brushed his thumb over her knuckles soothingly. He didn't want her to think something was seriously wrong. No, just his partner taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't fire back at the moment. 

The elevator finally came and as soon as it closed behind them, Clint crowded her up against the corner under the single camera and ducked under the brim of her hat, hovering close enough that it would look like he was kissing her neck. 

“You're doing great. We're almost there and then I'll explain everything, I promise.” There wasn't any audio in the elevators, but he kept his voice low anyway. Being this close to her stole his breath away and the smell of coconuts on her sun-warmed skin made it hard to think, let alone speak. God, he hated this plan. 

“Clint and Darcy sitting in a tree, F-U-C--”

And he _really_ hated his partner.

* * *

Instead of giving her the explanation she deserved, the first words out of Clint’s mouth once they crossed the hotel room threshold weren't to Darcy at all, but to Natasha. She was sitting at the desk, a headset over her ears and an innocent look on her face that even Darcy could tell was fake. 

“That's not how the song goes,” Clint said, tossing Darcy’s backpack onto the bed. 

Natasha shrugged elegantly and removed her headset, “I didn't hear it in English the first time. Must have been a mistranslation. How are you, Darcy?”

“Kind of equally drunk, hungry, and freaked out,” she said, blowing out a breath and sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. 

Clint picked up the room phone and after a beat, proceeded to order a bacon cheeseburger exactly the way she liked it, including a side of extra crispy sweet potato fries, and two large bottles of water. Then he leaned against the edge of the desk all calm, like he didn't just pluck her second favorite meal out of her head without asking. 

“What?” He asked, noticing her gaping stare. “They don't do good burritos here, but I can call back if you want to give it a shot.”

Darcy turned back to Natasha, hoping for a little more sanity. “Freaked out just took the lead. What the fuck is going on? It's not aliens again, is it?”

"No aliens, I promise,” Natasha said. “We’re on an op and could use your help is all.”

“How could I possibly help you guys? Do you need someone with an extensive knowledge of pop punk lyrics and 80s movie trivia? Because those are pretty much my only two areas of expertise.”

“No, though you never know where a mission will take you. I once successfully retrieved information by offering someone a tampon at the right moment. Every skill is an asset and you have more than you think at your disposal.”

Darcy knew Natasha was probably just propping up her ego by complimenting her “skills” in order to make her more compliant and dammit, it was working. Still, she wasn’t going to just cave in and say yes without hearing what they were up to. A ride along with genuine superheroes sounded exciting until you remembered the kind of trouble they usually got themselves into. 

“I need you to come with me to a card game tonight. Everything goes as planned, we’ll all head home tomorrow morning on one of Stark’s jets.” Clint said.

“Why me?” she asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Our host likes pretty girls and you're a pretty girl. You’ll be my ticket into the game.”

Oh, there was so much wrong with that statement, Darcy didn’t even know where to start. Her eyes cut back to Natasha, trying to wordlessly communicate a mixture of _what the fuck_ and _will you please translate for this dweeb_?

Natasha sighed and tapped on the laptop to pull up a picture of a middle aged, olive-skinned man with salt and pepper hair and cruel eyes. There was some writing next to the picture, like it was a personnel file, but Darcy couldn't read it without her glasses.

“Alright, from the beginning then. This is our target, Benicio Volta. He’s made his fortune on just about every unsavory area of business there is and now he’s gotten his hands on a large shipment of Stark Industries weapons. I was to make acquaintance with Volta, extract information on the location of the upcoming arms deal, and report back to the rest of the team so that they can move to intercept the shipment. Unfortunately, since the fall of SHIELD, our intel has been spotty.”

At this, Clint snorted derisively, and Natasha gave him a quelling look before continuing. 

“Upon landing here, we learned that one of Volta’s new hires is someone I've crossed paths with in the past and he knows my face too well to even attempt a disguise. Clint had to take point.”

“Normally that’d be fine,” Clint said, taking over the story. This time it was Natasha’s turn to make doubtful sounds. “It would have been _fine_ , but Volta really is a world class a-hole. His only weaknesses appear to be women and cards. We thought I could get to him with the cards, but he's requiring an entrance fee to his personal card game and the fee is eye candy.” 

“And I'm supposed to be the eye candy?” Darcy asked, her voice high and thin. 

“Well you certainly fit the bill,” Clint said with a grin. 

Again, Darcy turned to Natasha for a dose of sanity, but all she got was a frank and patient stare while she tried to process all of that. Not the least was the part where Clint had just implied that he found her attractive twice in as many minutes. 

“I don't… how did you guys even know I was here?” 

“You've been talking about this wedding for months,” Natasha said. 

“Yeah, but not to _you,_ ” Darcy said. It was true that her excitement over the trip had been effusive (how often do people really have an excuse to visit the French Riviera?), but Darcy was pretty sure she’d only mentioned it to Jane and Thor. Maybe Steve once. She might share a living space with them, but she wasn't exactly besties with the Avengers.

“Word gets around,” Clint said, but he was a little too stone-faced. Like he was trying too hard to meet her eyes. Holy shit, he was a terrible liar. How on Earth did he manage this spy bullshit? More importantly, did they keep everyone they knew under this close of surveillance or was she a special case? 

“What if I say no?” Darcy asked. She didn’t know Clint and Natasha well, but unless they had turned more villain than super hero in the week she had been gone, she didn’t think they would force her into a dangerous situation. Didn’t hurt to check, though. 

“We’ll stage a fight in the lobby and you can be on your way. I'll even let you slap me,” Clint said. 

“Just like that?” Darcy asked doubtfully. 

He seemed almost eager for her choose that option. What was the point in even bringing her up here, if he didn’t really want her involved? 

“No, not just like that,” Natasha cut in. She came over and sat next to Darcy on the bed. Her face transformed in the blink of an eye and suddenly Darcy wasn’t face to face with the Black Widow, trained assassin and international super spy. Now she was just having a comforting heart to heart with a caring friend. Someone who looked at her with sisterly affection. The swiftness of the change and apparent sincerity of her expression made Darcy reel. Natasha was intimidating before. Now she was terrifying. 

“Of course,” Big Sister Natasha continued, “we won’t make you do anything you don’t absolutely want to do. We need you to be a willing participant and any hesitation would only put you and Clint in danger. But we wouldn’t have bothered to bring you in if we didn’t think you were necessary to completing our mission. So for the next few hours, I am going to do everything in my power to help you realize that not only _can_ you do this, but that you’ll want to. If I haven’t succeeded by the time you guys need to head to the party, then yes, you get to slap Clint before we send you on your way. Either way, I promise it’ll be a fun evening." 

“Hey!” Clint protested. 

“Oh, don’t act like you won’t enjoy yourself, too.” Natasha rolled her eyes at him and smiled at Darcy like they were sharing a secret. 

This was all just a _lot_ for Darcy to process right now. She needed water or more booze, or a nap. Five minutes to think on her own without Natasha messing with her head. 

“I need to pee,” she blurted out. She stood just as abruptly and rushed for the bathroom, too anxious to get a locked door between herself and the two of them to be embarrassed. 

“Of course! Freshen up and we’ll talk more when you’re done,” Natasha called after her. 

In the bathroom - and Darcy couldn’t even muster up surprise anymore - was Darcy’s suitcase. It was supposed to be at the front desk where she'd left it, but now here it was. Like magic. Or like she was being stalked by a pair of overly helpful spies. Well fine, if they were going to be so fucking accommodating, she might as well take a shower and change into some real clothes. 

Darcy triple checked the door to make sure it was locked. Not that a simple bathroom lock would stop anyone determined to get in. Her anxiety rose up like a bubble in her throat as she imagined armed mobsters busting into the hotel room, taking Clint and Natasha by surprise, and gunning them down before they could reach for their own weapons. Then, noticing the locked bathroom door, they would kick it in and kill Darcy herself while she still had shampoo in her hair. 

Swallowing hard, Darcy turned the shower on and forcefully shut down that train of thought. Sure, there was some danger in being dragged into an Avengers mission. But she lived and worked at the Avengers compound. Her life was not exactly risk-free and she could be collateral damage any time Justin Hammer or Loki or any number of transdimensional baddies woke up feeling overly ambitious. 

She stripped and stepped under the fancy rainfall shower head and tried to imagine the water washing away her worries. The worst case scenario had already played out behind her eyeballs, so what would be the best case scenario? Darcy says thanks, but no thanks and gets bumped up to first class on the way home. No, that was boring, she had to try harder than that. 

Darcy says yes and they go to the party. Turns out scumbag mobster guy just wants pretty girls at his party because he’s recruiting for a beauty pageant! No one leers at her tits or tries to grab her ass because the men are all very involved with their card game and Darcy spends a few hours chatting with a bunch of really interesting girls who are all in fascinating fields of study. The party ends without incident, Clint gets whatever information they need, and maybe they have sex but they go back to New York like nothing happened. 

Hmm, she could do better. Darcy soaped up her hair as she mentally sifted through her options, but stiffened when she heard a knock at the hotel room door. She could hear the door open, a muffled conversation between Clint and another male voice and then the door closed again, jarring Darcy out of her frozen state. No one was going to bust in. She was fine. 

In fact, she was well on her way to becoming a super spy herself! This would be the beginning of her training to becoming the next badass secret agent. She and Clint would go undercover and the sexual tension between them would be so impossible to ignore that they’d have to go at it like horny teenagers in a supply closet to take enough of the edge off to finish the mission. He would be in charge of training her and every mission would feature them in some kind of undercover relationship. Off mission, they’d both try to keep things strictly professional until they just couldn’t take it anymore, resulting in some kind of kinky Mr. and Mrs. Smith-style shoot-out slash fuck fest. Darcy rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and almost laughed out loud at the idea of herself as a secret agent. 

Okay, time for sobering reality while she conditioned. What was actually likely to happen if she said yes? They’d go and gross old guys would definitely leer at her, but that was hardly new. She’d make boring small talk with the rest of the “eye candy” and get a headache from the champagne they would all be drinking, and then they’d leave without incident and head home to New York in the morning. Clint would go back to barely glancing at her on the rare occasions they were in the same room and she would eventually forget what his aftershave smelled like. It might be a little exciting, but considering all she really had to do was go to a party and not give away Clint’s real identity, not very dangerous or difficult. 

She rinsed again and felt the last of her anxiety leach out of her. She wasn’t feeling quite so tipsy now, just kind of tired. Once she’d gotten some food in her and had some water, she’d be ready for whatever freaky spy persuasion Natasha wanted to pull on her. 


	3. Chapter 3

Clint picked another fry off the room service cart and chewed it absently. Darcy had been in the shower a long time and they were getting cold. Maybe he should order down for another plate since he’d already eaten half of her fries. There was no way she was going to go along with this. They were wasting time that should have been spent working on another plan. He reached for another fry and Natasha swatted his hand away as she walked past him. 

“Where are you off to?”

“She's almost out, so I'm giving you a minute to work your limited charm.” Natasha opened the door to the adjoining room and paused. “I understand why you don't want her involved but it's too late to switch gears now so try not to screw things up any more than they already are and scare her off on purpose.”

Clint sighed. “Yeah, fine. No promises it won’t happen on accident, though.”

Natasha pulled an exaggerated pout and glided through the door, leaving him alone with Darcy and her dwindling plate of fries. He scattered them around a bit, trying in vain to make it look like he hadn't taken any and pulled his hand away just in time for Darcy to come out of the bathroom looking revived and temptingly soft in leggings and an oversized cardigan. 

There weren't any cameras here in the room and he didn’t have being undercover as an excuse to go against his own damn self-made rules, so the rules here were the same as any other day back home. Don't stare, no matter how pretty she looked. Don't touch, no matter how badly he wanted to. Keep things professional. He just hoped she was on the same page after how close they got earlier. He needn't have worried. The burger was all she had eyes for and she was three bites in before she paid Clint any attention at all. 

“Where's Natasha?” she asked with her mouth full of burger.

God help him, he still thought she was cute as hell.

“Next door. She'll be back in a minute.” 

Darcy swallowed and took a swig of water. “Okay, I guess you'll do. I have questions. You better have some answers.”

“Shoot. I'll do my best.”

“How long have you been running surveillance on me and why?”

That was not the sort of question he had been expecting and it was more difficult to answer than it should have been. There was the sort of surveillance that SHIELD had deemed necessary, the sort that was folded into the security systems of the Avengers compound, and then there was the sort that his brain did without his permission. 

“You've been under surveillance one way or another since Puente Antiguo. Not always by me specifically,” Clint shrugged and tried to project nonchalance, “but sometimes.”

“SHIELD cared about how I like my burgers cooked?” She polished off the last bite and Clint struggled, as he always did, not to stare as she sucked the tip of her finger clean. 

“No, I guess that's more of a personal observation,” Clint admitted. “It's what you ordered at the last big family dinner we were both at. I remembered because you were sitting across from me and I wished I had gotten the same thing. I got pasta instead and ended up spilling red sauce all over myself.’

“Oh my god, I remember that! Pepper looked at you like a naughty puppy who pissed on her favorite rug.” Darcy's laugh lit up her whole face. She was so beautiful, he didn't even mind it was at his expense. “Okay, one more big question. I'll probably have about a million more little ones but this one is important.”

Clint nodded for her to continue, afraid of what she'd hit him with this time. 

“These guys tonight. They're huge creeps, right?”

“Pretty huge, yeah.”

“Right.” She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. “I can deal with creeps to a certain extent. I don't usually tolerate the looks and the comments but I know I'll have to laugh it off and pretend I don't mind and I can do that. But if one of those dirtbags tries to grope me, I--” 

“No one is going to lay a hand on you.” 

“Clint, you can't promise that.” Darcy shook her head at him in exasperation and started in on her fries. 

“I can and I do. No one will touch you.” If they did, he knew a few creative ways to maim whoever was stupid enough to try.

“First of all, you _can't_ because you won’t be with me every single moment and secondly, if we're going in there as a couple, _you're_ going to have to touch me. What I want to know is how badly will I screw things up if I fight someone off?”

The fact that this misadventure required the two of them to get up close and personal was not something he could easily forget, he just hadn’t been counting himself when he said “no one.” Thankfully she didn’t seem to be putting him in the same category as the creeps but he shouldn’t let himself get too comfortable with the idea of having her in his arms.

“Don't worry about it. I'm telling you, no one will touch you without your express permission, not even me.” He held up a hand to stave off her protest. “But if the impossible happens and someone does, you do whatever you need to get away safely. Then you find me and I'll break every finger in the guy's hand.” 

“So chivalrous,” she said, batting those long eyelashes at him in mockery. 

“I'm serious, Darcy. None of this,” he waved a hand at the assortment of weapons and surveillance equipment on the desk, “is more important than your safety.”

“Maybe I should just leave then.”

“Maybe you should.” He knew he was supposed to be convincing her to stay, but couldn't resist one last ditch effort to get out of this mess. Sure, he'd wind up in a whole other mess if she did leave, but surviving disasters of his own making was practically his specialty by now. 

“Jesus, why did you drag me into this if you don't even think I'm capable?”

Clint sighed. “You're here precisely because you are capable. You're smart, beautiful, and you know how to keep your head in an emergency.”

“Then what is your problem?!”

“You're a distraction!” Clint scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration and took a breath to try and calm down. “But hey, like you said, it's my problem, not yours. I don't want you in on this but we do need your help and you're the right person for the job.”

* * *

It wasn’t often that Darcy was speechless, but she honestly had no clue what to say to that. He seemed so unwaveringly confident in her abilities, but he barely ever even spoke to her back at home. If he was so damn convinced of her beauty and charm, why did he always find a reason to leave the room whenever she entered it?

The door to the adjoining room opened, jarring them out of their impromptu staring contest. Natasha took less than a second to assess the tension between Darcy and Clint and frowned at them both like they had personally disappointed her. 

“Valentino just arrived.” She said to Clint. “You better head down to meet him before he comes looking for you.”

Clint groaned in aggravation and headed for the door but Natasha held out a hand to stop him. 

“Just a second. Darcy, you should go too.”

“Me?” Darcy asked, taking a step back. Maybe she could claim diarrhea and hide in the bathroom again. 

“Think of it as a test run. We just need to make a few adjustments…”

Within seconds, Natasha has pulled Darcy's damp, loose hair into a top knot, pulled off her cardigan to reveal the tight tank top she had underneath, and shoved a tube of lip gloss into her hand. 

“Put that on in the elevator. Now go!”

“Wait, what do I do?” Darcy asked. A low grade panic started to bubble up inside her, even as she slipped her shoes on and moved towards the door. “Do need a fake name? I never even said yes!” 

“Just follow my lead and act however you would if you were meeting your boyfriend's business associate.” Clint was already herding her down the hall and towards the elevators, his hand burning hot through the thin fabric of her shirt. 

“I’ve never dated anyone with business associates before.” Darcy shot him a sidelong look. “Still think I'm the right person?”

The elevator doors closed behind them and Darcy used the mirrored wall to quickly slick on the lip gloss and make a subtle bra strap adjustment. Though in this lighting, her shirt was sheer enough to see her whole bra. Not her usual look at all, but probably just right for the kind of girl a whale would bring to a high stakes card game. 

“I think I'm lucky you're here with me,” Clint said. He gave her an appreciative once over and took her lip gloss, tucking it into his pocket before wrapping an arm around her. 

“Damn straight,” Darcy said. She guessed she was doing this now whether she liked it or not. Time to fake it ‘til she made it.

The elevator opened into a glass-domed atrium with three wide corridors branching off to other areas of the resort. The front entrance and check-in area to their left, the casino to their right, and dining and entertainment straight ahead. Darcy bit down on the many, many questions she had like where were they headed? Who was this guy they were about to intercept? Why was Clint walking so damn slowly? 

Real girlfriends would probably already know the answer to those questions. The girlfriend she was supposed to be playing probably wouldn't ask any questions at all. The arm clamped around her waist steered her toward the middle corridor and tightened minutely just before a man called out behind them. 

“Signore! Mr Miller!”

Clint slowed to a stop and turned, but switched arms so that she stayed firmly tucked against his side. The man who must be Valentino caught up to them and gave Clint a sleazy smile to match his sleazy slicked back hair. The guy obviously had money, judging by the fat diamond ring on his pinky and his custom made suit, but money couldn't buy someone a decent personality.

“Yes? What can I do for you?” Clint asked in broad Midwestern accent. 

“Signore, my name is Valentino Alessi.” They exchanged a very manly handshake. The testosterone on display was thick enough to choke on. 

“Our mutual friend, Lorenzo, said I might find you here,” he continued. “He said he wasn’t sure if you would be able to come to our game tonight thanks to Mr. Volta’s peculiar ah, ‘dress code’ and I had to wanted to offer my assistance. I see now that is unnecessary.” 

He smiled meaningfully at Darcy like she was in on the joke, but she still had very little idea what was going on here. This guy wanted to help Clint gain entrance to the card game? And the entrance fee to the game was pretty girls, so did this guy just have pretty girls to spare? Oh gross. This guy was probably a pimp or worse, offering to rent out one of his girls to Clint for a price.

“I do appreciate the offer, but as you can see, I've got my ticket right here.” Clint gave Darcy a squeeze. “Jenna here would never forgive me if I left her home alone while I went out and partied.”

“Only because I know how much trouble you’d get up to without me,” Darcy said, channeling her best impression of Vanessa teasing Alex. 

“We were just headed to the bar for a drink. Care to join us?” Clint asked Valentino.

“Ah, another time perhaps.” Valentino replied. “You were not the only gentleman inconvenienced by Mr. Volta's request. It's good for business of course, but he keeps me on my toes.”

“Well good luck to you, Val. We'll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. Bellissima, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said to Darcy.

“Nice to meet you,” Darcy said. She held out her hand to shake because that was what civilized people did when they were first introduced. Instead of shaking it though, Valentino gripped it lightly and bent over it to place a brief kiss on her knuckles. Her instincts in this situation would normally make her rip her hand away and start yelling. Her nervousness about screwing up and putting herself, Clint, Natasha, and valuable information at risk with one wrong move is what ended up saving her. 

A girlish giggle burst out of her without her permission and Valentino released her hand with a sly wink. Her nervous reaction apparently passed for flattered in his eyes. Of course, he was probably the kind of man who made a habit of misreading women's reactions. Darcy let her hand hang at her side, the bumps of her knuckles felt branded with filth but she knew better than to wipe at them until he was gone. 

With another overly firm handshake, Clint steered Darcy away from Pimp Daddy Val and toward the hotel bar. Darcy was already fed up with all of this steering. She was neither a car nor a boat and not knowing their next move was getting old fast. Simply asking seemed out of the question, so she tried to think how she could get answers without giving away how deeply in over her head she was. To Clint, or to anyone else listening or watching. 

_Play it cool_ , she told herself. _Just pretend you do this spy shit for a living_.

Clint led her straight to the bar, casually situating himself so that he had full view of every entrance and the handful of people boozing it up on a Wednesday afternoon. Not that someone who started drinking at ten in the morning was in the position to judge someone else’s drinking habits, Darcy reminded herself. Vacation rules were different, anyway. She twirled back and forth on her barstool idly while Clint ordered himself a beer and coffee for her. Thank god, she could use the caffeine. 

She twirled too far in Clint’s direction and bumped knees with him and he reached out and clamped down on her knee to to keep her in place. Between the hotel’s overly-enthusiastic air conditioning and the lack of her usual layers, she was freezing and the sudden blast of heat from his hand gave her a full-body shiver. 

Clint cocked his head at her reaction and smirked at her. “That all it takes?”

“Don’t get excited, I’m just cold,” Darcy bluffed.

The bartender brought their drinks and Darcy eagerly took a gulp of her coffee, immediately scalding the inside of her mouth. Worth it. Her next sip was more cautious and Darcy peered at Clint over the rim of her mug while she tried to decide what to say next. All this thinking before she spoke was exhausting.

“Couldn't we have done this in our room?” she tried. They successfully intercepted Valentino and sent him on his way. Couldn't they just head back to the room where they could talk freely?

“I thought the change of scenery might be nice.”

Okay, so that was a dead end. Clint's hand was still on her knee, his thumb making tiny, absent circles across the top of it. Boyfriend Clint sure was handsy. She wasn't exactly complaining, but they really needed to have a conversation about ground rules before tonight. Somewhere where they didn't need to speak in code. For now, she might as well have some fun. 

“Really, babe? I was pretty happy with the scenery upstairs.” Darcy paired that relatively mild comment with a heated look, lingering on all of the places his yuppie disguise fit him oh so well. 

Clint choked on his beer, but recovered quickly. “Well, I didn’t mean to disrupt your view. We can head back if that’s what you really want.”

“Oh no, you made me put on clothes and get out of bed. I’m going to stay and finish my coffee. You can make it up to me later, stud.”

This time it was Clint’s turn to take a good long look. Truths and lies were difficult to distinguish now that they were in character, but he certainly looked like he appreciated the view. He shifted closer to her and gave her knee a squeeze.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said in a low voice.

Embarrassingly, Darcy shivered again and with the coffee and Clint’s hand warming her up inside and out, she could hardly blame it on the air conditioning this time. She sat up a little straighter and smirked when Clint’s eyes predictably dipped to her chest. Men were so easy sometimes. She took one last gulp to drain the rest of her cup and slid off her stool. 

“I’m ready. Let’s get out of here, pookie.”

The look on Clint’s face was priceless. It was a hilarious mix of being turned on by the flirting and disturbed by the ridiculous pet name. Taking advantage of his confusion, she grabbed him by the hand and towed him out of the bar, Clint tossing some Euros on the bar as they left. It felt good to have the upper hand for this brief moment, until they were in the elevator and Darcy caught just a glimmer of annoyance in Clint’s out of focus stare and she remembered that Natasha had probably listened in on their whole conversation. Well, that was embarrassing. Unless the annoyance was at her for flirting with him so outrageously. That would be beyond embarrassing and straight into mortifying. 

Before she could doubt herself for long, Clint’s eyes met hers and the flirtatious air from the bar settled back around them like a comforting blanket. He slid their joined hands to the small of her back and pulled her closer to whisper in her ear. 

“You ever go on a double date with your best friend and they keep making faces at you behind your date’s back? You can’t help but be distracted, no matter how much fun you’re having with the person right in front of you.”

Oh thank god, it was just Natasha then.

“I’m usually the best friend in that scenario, but I can see how that would be pretty annoying. After a while, all of my friends learned not to bring me along.”

The elevator dinged and let them out on their floor and Clint was silent for the short walk down the hall to their room. Once inside, he dropped Darcy’s hand and turned to Natasha, who was once again sitting at the desk.

“Unfortunately, there are times when I can’t leave my best friend at home, but it sure would be nice if she’d stop being such an ass over the comms when I can’t fight back,” Clint finally said, glaring at Natasha.

“Not sorry,” Natasha said. “I just can’t help commenting on such sincere performances. Though Darcy, the pet names were a bit much.”

“Yeah, what was that about?” Clint added. “Babe? Stud? _Pookie_?”

“I didn't know your name so I had to improvise,” Darcy said with a shrug. As though it hadn’t been a decision born out of the pure joy of fucking with him.

“It's… Clint,” he said with an adorable mixture of hurt and confusion. 

“She's talking about your cover, idiot,” Natasha told him. “Jenna Williams, meet Grant Miller.”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry. I guess we have a few more things we need to catch you up on,” Clint said, quickly covering what looked like relief with a more businesslike demeanor.

“Which I will handle because we need to start getting her dressed. Get out of here and I'll let you know when we're ready for you,” Natasha said, shooing him into the adjoining room.

* * *

There were almost three hours left before the party started. Plenty of time to sit back and relax with a beer from the mini bar since Darcy made him leave his half-finished downstairs. But first, he had far more important matters at hand. Or in hand, so to speak. 

Jerking off was not _necessarily_ a part of his usual pre-mission checklist, and it wasn’t like he was completely incapable of controlling himself around Darcy and just so badly needed to take the edge off or he was going to spend the whole night rock hard. But it wouldn’t hurt either. 

The shower seemed like the best place for it because that meant one more locked door between him and Natasha, who seemed hell bent on ruining his life as much as possible this week. Next week she’d probably pretend he didn’t exist and he couldn't wait for her to lose interest in how he ran his life. Her attention span for personal matters was short but intense. Right now, he was apparently stuck in the middle of one of her hyper fixations. If he dared lay down on the bed, the second his dick was out, she’d burst in through the door like a suburban mom on the hunt for dirty socks or hidden weed. No, the shower was safer.

The locked bathroom door providing a little more security, Clint let himself finally really think about every tantalizing sight and feel of Darcy that he’d had so far that day. The swell of her cleavage in that red halter bikini, the pucker of her lips as she put on her lip gloss in the elevator. He couldn’t get the feel of her trembling under his hand out of his head. She’d shivered once because of the cold, but he didn’t think that was the only reason she shivered the second time. Then there was the true danger of getting close to Darcy. Her clever, wicked mind. She took to the role of fake girlfriend with such gusto, he didn’t even want to think what flirting with her for real would be like.

The water wasn’t even hot before Clint was hard, just from thinking about her naked in the hotel bed with her dark hair fanned out over the white pillows. Christ, he’d spent over a year trying not to let himself think about that and now she’d gone and seared the mental image directly on his brain by suggesting it herself. He stepped under the spray and took himself in hand. Oh yeah, this would be short and sweet. 

He’d known about her existence for as long as he’d known about the existence of Thor, but she remained fairly mythical until one day she was right in front of him in the team kitchen and yelling at him for drinking straight from the coffee pot. 

That she was beautiful was not a surprise. He’d seen the picture in her file. That she was bossy and unafraid and well-liked by all of his team members is what made Clint construct a mental wall between the two of them. She was exactly his type and his type was trouble. Better to stay away from this one to minimize any damage to the tentative team bonds they were all trying to form.

Now here he was taking a sledgehammer to that wall. He should put his foot down and insist that she be sent packing, but he didn’t have it in him to offer anything but the smallest token resistance to Natasha’s schemes. At least to himself, and already so turned on his pulse throbbed in his throat, Clint might as well admit that he wanted Darcy. In his bed, stretched out and waiting for him with nothing but a smile on. Here in this shower, dripping wet and slippery under his hands. He wanted her on her knees and wrapped around him and a hundred other ways he hadn’t even thought of yet. 

The wall at his back, a real one this time, was all that physically separated them. How hard would it really be to get her alone and make the images playing out in his mind a reality? Find some reason to get Natasha out of the room. She’d know what he was up to, but she seemed so determined to put Darcy in his path that she might even come up with a reason on her own. And Darcy was so receptive, so pliable and welcoming to his advances when they were playing a part. How different would it be if it was just the two of them? 

Clint lost himself in the fantasy of her lush curves and smooth skin, the heady rush of her wanting him as much as he wanted her. His hand worked faster on his cock and he imagined her eager and enthusiastic beneath him, as demanding and playful as she was in any other moment of her life. She’d be greedy in chasing her pleasure and he’d be more than happy to put in the work to keep her satisfied. With his hands, his cock, his mouth, whatever she wanted. Christ, he hoped she wanted his mouth. 

The thought of burying his face between her legs is what finally did it for him and he came, spilling over his hand and stomach with a quiet grunt. His head swam for a second and it wasn’t until he blinked his eyes open that he realized they had been squeezed shut, all the better to imagine the various debauched ways he wanted to get his hands on the woman next door. He let out a gusty exhale and swiped the come off his body. 

Clear headed once again and annoyed at himself for getting so worked up, he finished up in the shower with abrupt, efficient movements. Fantasies were a waste of time. This was just like any other job gone wrong. He just needed to get the op back on track, get the info they needed, and get back to New York. 

Where she would still be there everywhere he turned. Fuck.

After this was over he could take a couple weeks off avenging and spend some time at his place in Bed-Stuy. Fail to fix a leaky faucet or some shit. Maybe spend some time with some other unenhanced humans, pick up a girl who didn’t live with him or know how to strangle someone with her thighs. Aw, who was he kidding? Dating or even just fucking someone other than Darcy held no appeal for him and hadn't for a while now. Still, it might be a good idea to get some distance. First, he just had to get through tonight without getting a whole lot closer.


	4. Chapter 4

“So you're just a constant little voice in his head on these missions? Couldn't that be kind of dangerous?” Darcy asked once Clint was gone. Wary of being alone with Natasha, she wrapped herself back up in her cardigan. An extra layer of clothing wasn’t going to give her any protection from mind games, but it did make her feel a little better. 

“Yes, but he's had a lot of practice splitting his attention and I will admit that I've been playing with him a lot more than I usually do. Normally what I'm telling him is just intel on the people he's talking to, updates on the movements of people outside of his line of sight, that sort of thing. But even that is rare. Usually our positions are reversed and it's him in my ear.”

“Am I going to have one for tonight, too?”

“No, I don't think it'll be necessary. Does that mean you've made your decision?” Natasha asked.

Darcy blew out a gusty sigh. “I guess? If I say no, that means Clint has to use one of Valentino's girls instead. I'm not sure I want to indirectly contribute to international sex trafficking. That's his deal, right? Sex workers who are in it by choice don't usually work for guys like him.”

“Not usually, no. But something tells me that isn't your only objection.” Natasha leaned forward and affected a confiding air. “Your decision wouldn't have anything to do with making sure another girl doesn't end up on Clint’s arm, would it?”

This sleepover girl talk thing Natasha was going for would work better if Darcy hadn't already decided to distrust everything that came out of Natasha's mouth. It was kind of a bummer that she wouldn't just be upfront with Darcy without any of this charade. They weren't best buddies or anything, but until now, Darcy would have considered Natasha a casual friend. After this, Darcy felt unsure what to make of her. She couldn't shake the feeling that this op of theirs would be meeting more than one goal and that getting information out of Volta might just be a pleasant bonus. 

“That’s really none of my business. I mean, Clint's barely said two words to me before today. He's practically a stranger.” Darcy was desperately trying for nonchalant even though she could tell Natasha wasn't buying it.

Natasha hummed noncommittally. Definitely not buying it. “You two just seemed to have a lot of chemistry.”

“Because we were flirting? That was just for show. I know I'm not the expert here, but it’s all part of being undercover, right?”

“The most convincing lies are rooted in truth,” Natasha said. Then she stood and waved Darcy over to sit in her place at the desk, suddenly all business. “Which is something to keep in mind for tonight.”

While Natasha began methodically curling her hair section by section, Darcy idly watched the CCTV feeds on the laptop, tracking the comings and goings of hotel guests like watching fish swimming around in a bowl. As she worked on Darcy’s hair, Natasha also gave her a crash course on undercover work. Darcy did her best to pay attention, but having someone play with her hair always relaxed her and it had been a very long day.

“When you're socializing with the other guests,” Natasha said, “try to keep the topic of conversation centered on the other person, but if they ask about you, keep it simple and vague. You don’t work with Dr. Foster, you work in a lab and run reports. You don’t study the Convergence, you study astrophysics.”

“To be fair, I don’t study the Convergence. I mostly just make coffee and clean out Jane’s email inbox.”

“Even better. Your goal tonight is to be as bland and uninteresting as possible.”

“Gee, thanks,” Darcy said with an eye roll she knew Natasha couldn’t see. 

“My instinct would be to downplay your looks as well, but your looks are somewhat of a crucial component. It's just as well, your features are too striking to really blend in with the crowd anyway.”

“That’s me. Bland, yet striking,” Darcy said under her breath. Darcy pouted at herself in the faint reflection of the laptop screen. Guys had been fixated on the size of her lips since middle school but “striking” was a much better term than the way horny teenagers commented on her DSLs. Of course, she'd always attracted the wrong sort of attention. Girls like Vanessa got lesser nobility while all Darcy got was catcalls from creeps and nerds who didn't know how to please a woman in bed. 

“Natasha, what do I do if someone gropes me?” 

The hands in her hair stilled and settled on the back of her chair. Here it was. Natasha was finally realizing how ill-suited she was to this sort of work. 

“I know you've had self-defense training.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She took a class once a year to make sure it stayed fresh in her mind for times like this when she couldn’t have her trusty taser with her. If Natasha knew that much, did she know why, too?

“So use it. Get away to a safe place and then Clint or I will make sure that he suffers.”

“Okay,” Darcy said quietly, feeling somewhat mollified that her answer had been the same as Clint's. “And how likely would you say that is to happen?”

Natasha sighed, but resumed her work on Darcy’s hair. “About the same as going to a frat party. Stay close to Clint when you can, and make friends with another woman at the party for when you can’t. Watch the bartender make all of your drinks and keep your drinking pace slow. In fact, stay away from alcohol altogether if you can. One drink might help calm your nerves, but much more than that and you might miss something important. I wouldn’t send you in if I didn’t think you would be relatively safe, but you will have to keep your guard up.”

Darcy swallowed hard and nodded. Threat level: frat party. She could handle that. Not because she'd been to many, because she'd avoided those like the plague during her undergrad years. But it tethered her anxieties to a baseline instead of letting them spiral off into the stratosphere.

“There is one man you should avoid at all costs, however.” Natasha leaned over the laptop and tabbed over to a different screen. The mugshot of a mean looking white guy with buzzed hair and a scar on his chin stared back at her.

“Ew. Done,” Darcy said. Even without the warning, he looked like the kind of guy that would make Darcy cross the street when she passed him.

“This is Josef Karlsson and he's the reason I can't be there tonight. Among the many reasons he belongs either in jail or in a grave, he's particularly violent towards women.”

The urge to ask for further information was strong but Darcy had the good sense to keep her mouth shut. Getting a vicarious thrill from true crime podcasts was one thing. Knowing she might come face to face with a real life psychopath was a little too real. She didn't want to know more than the basics.

“Got it. Anyone else I should keep an eye out for?”

“I don't want you to have too much information. With such a short amount of time to study names and faces, you'd only get them mixed up. And this way, you'll be less likely to accidentally let slip something you aren't supposed to know about them.”

Natasha finished up her hair and moved on to her makeup, all while dropping handy tips like the best way to run in heels and how to convincingly fake seasickness. 

“Why would I even need to know that?” 

“The party’s on a yacht.”

“I won't have to fake it then. I actually get seasick.”

Natasha looked surprised, as though she hasn't even considered that as a possibility. “How badly?”

“I've only been on a boat once, but it was bad enough that I was puking uncontrollably about an hour into the fishing trip. Thankfully that was the last time my dad tried _that_ method of father-daughter bonding.”

“I think you'll be alright,” Natasha said after a moment. “Most yachts are much bigger than recreational fishing boats and they have stabilizers that smooth out the bobbing motion of the waves. Plus, you won't be leaving the marina so the water will be nice and calm. If you do start feeling sick, hang in there as long as you can and I promise I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you. I'm sorry I didn't think about this before now.”

“It's fine. How could you have known?” Darcy was oddly touched by Natasha's concern and annoyed that she couldn't figure out if it was coming from the woman who helped her make breakfast on Sunday mornings or the kindly stranger who’d been inhabiting her body this afternoon.

Natasha stepped back and surveyed her handiwork. “Alright, I think that should do it. Your dress is on the back of the bathroom door, undergarments and accessories are in that bag on the bed. Everything is yours to keep of course.” 

Darcy lifted a black lace garter belt out of the bag. “And how exactly will this help me maintain my cover?”

“That's something special just for you. Sexy lingerie gives you confidence, even if no one else ever sees it. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to, but I personally think they're kind of fun.” Natasha shrugged and looked kind of sheepish, which Darcy couldn't help but find it charming.

She dropped it back into the bag without another word. She still didn't completely trust Natasha's methods of persuasion, but whatever she was after was probably relatively harmless. Besides, she'd have to be crazy to say no to free luxury lingerie.

In the bathroom, Darcy gaped at herself in the mirror. She didn't have very many excuses to get dressed up, but now here she was, all dolled up for the second time this week. For Vanessa's wedding, she'd looked like a perfectly painted stranger. Not a single hair out of place and foundation so thick it felt like it would crack if she smiled too wide. Natasha on the other hand, had managed to amplify all of her best features while still making her look fresh faced and dewy. Her hair was artfully arranged in a low chignon with perfectly waved tendrils framing her face. 

As Vanessa's picture perfect bridesmaid, she'd felt itchy and uncomfortable before she'd even had to stuff her boobs into her dress. Under Natasha's skilled hand, she felt almost as comfortable as if she was at home watching Netflix in her jammies. Of course, there was probably still boob stuffing in her future.

Gritting her teeth and preparing for the worst, Darcy unzipped the garment bag hanging on the back of the door. It wasn’t strapless, which was a relief, but the straps it did have were thin and the neckline was plunging, which still meant a strapless bra was needed, which of course meant she'd spend half the evening adjusting her boobs. Darcy checked the bag and found a longline bustier which was miraculously in her nonstandard size. With this kind of attention to detail, maybe Natasha should have known about her sea sickness.

Well, there was no use putting it off any longer. She stripped and got dressed in her Jenna Williams costume, garter belt, stockings, and all, because why the hell not? She struck a pose in the mirror in just the lingerie and okay yeah, she looked really fucking hot in this and everything fit like a glove. There was even a pretty good chance she wouldn't have to hoist her bra up every five seconds.

The dress was no exception. It was all black, the bodice clinging to her torso, which simultaneously gave her awesome cleavage while making her waist look tiny. From there, it flared out into a fluttery tulle skirt that ended just below her knees. Simple black pumps and some understated earrings completed the look. 

_Damn, not too shabby_ , she thought. And she got to keep it. She was wearing this dress to every formal-ish function from now until eternity.

* * *

The bathroom door opened and Clint looked up from his stubborn cufflinks to find Darcy in front of him looking more gorgeous than he'd ever seen her.

Looking him over from head to toe, she gave him an impressed nod. “Wow. You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You too.”

That was the understatement of the year. He knew she had a great body under all those layers she usually wore, but all of that skin on display was making him seriously doubt his convictions to stay away from her after tonight was over. 

“You need help with those?” Darcy asked, reaching for his abandoned cufflinks.

“Yeah, thanks.” He held out his wrist and when she stepped in closer, reached out and brushed away a stray hair that was caught in the long sweep of her eyelashes. “I'm definitely going to have the most beautiful date tonight.”

Darcy's eyes flicked up to meet his shyly before glancing at something behind him. “All thanks to Natasha.”

Right, Natasha. He'd been so stunned by Darcy, he'd forgotten they weren’t alone. He looked back to see her giving him a shit-eating grin, disgustingly proud of herself.

“Don't give her too much credit,” he told Darcy. “You'd be my choice even if you were in sweatpants.”

Darcy released his fastened cuff with a disbelieving scoff, but he didn’t miss the pleased smile or the faint tinge of pink in her cheeks. Natasha's smugness only grew more insufferable. He would never forgive her if her need to satisfy her inner yenta resulted in Darcy getting hurt.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he asked Darcy. He was too conflicted to hope for one answer over the other at this point.

“Yes. It’ll be fine. I don’t even have to do the hard part, you’re the one who has to stay in the poker game long enough to play mind games with an international arms dealer. You sure _you_ want to do this?” Darcy arched an eyebrow at him in challenge, hands on her hips. God, she was cute when she got bossy.

“Nope, but I’m doin’ it anyway.” And wasn’t that the story of his fucking life? “Come on gorgeous, let’s get out of here before either of us change our minds.”

He took her hand in his, but before he could even take a step for the door, Natasha called out. They both half-turned, their hands still joined, just in time for Natasha to snap a picture of them with her phone. 

“There we go. Now you guys enjoy the dance. Darcy, be sure to have him home by midnight and you kids be sure to use protection.” She shook her finger at them, her brow furrowed in mock seriousness.

As one, Clint and Darcy flipped her off and turned back for the door, Natasha’s laughter following them out into the hall.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy had hoped to have a private conversation with Clint before they went to the party, but it was too late. They were already in the car and Natasha was in his ear and after all that teasing back up in the room, Darcy couldn't bring herself to lay out touching guidelines with her listening in. There weren't many ways Clint could touch her that she wouldn't be into, but she would still feel better giving permission rather than forgiveness. 

“Hey Nat, give us a couple minutes, would you?” he said. After a beat, he turned to Darcy. “I can't be sure, but I don't think she's listening. Let's talk ground rules for tonight. Obviously I'll be paying close attention to make sure you're on board with however I'm touching you, but I wanna know up front if there's anything I shouldn't do. We should have talked about this earlier, but the timing hasn't been great.”

Darcy's mouth dropped open in surprise. She wasn't one to give men cookies for doing the right thing, but this sort of attention was so damn rare, she couldn't help but feel grateful that he was making sure they had this conversation. 

“Okay, you start,” she said. “Is there anything you're uncomfortable with?”

“No hitting. Not even play hits. Other than that, I'm pretty easy. What about you?” 

“Hard to say. I really don't like PDA, but it's kind of necessary, isn't it?”

“It doesn't have to be,” Clint said seriously. “If you don't want to be touched, I won't touch you.”

“No, it's not that. You can touch me.” She was more than okay with that. “I’d rather you stake your claim on me than have the creeps at the party think I’m up for grabs. So touching is fine and kissing is fine, as long as it’s not on the lips.”

Clint looked at her sidelong at that, his eyes briefly dipping down to her lips. “Because that’s too personal?”

“No, this isn’t a Pretty Woman kind of thing. It’s just that some first kisses can be kind of awkward. I feel like it would be a bit of a giveaway if we’re supposed to have been dating a while, but kiss like we just met.”

While that was all true, Darcy’s real reason was the same as why she had never played spin the bottle as a kid. First kisses should be special. They should be the result of budding passion between two people with a real connection. There should be tension in the air and butterflies in her stomach. A first kiss shouldn’t be a performance for an audience. 

“Hmm, that’s a good point. I doubt it’ll come up anyway, but…”

“But?”

“Well it’s a pretty easy issue to resolve,” he said, pulling smoothly into a parking space at the marina’s private lot. 

“How so?” she asked.

Clint unbuckled his seat belt and leaned close. “Simple. Kiss me.”

Darcy couldn’t move. He was so close and looking at her like something he wanted to eat and she felt completely paralyzed. There was no audience here, but it was no more real if they were alone in the car than if they were in a room full of people. A strange expression, quickly covered up by a rueful smile, flitted across his face and he started to move away.

“Forget it. It’s not like we’re going to need to make out to maintain our cover. That only happens if your last name is Bond.”

“Wait,” Darcy said and closed her hand around his lapel. She was being an idiot. It was just a kiss, not a marriage proposal. She pulled him back to her and met him halfway. They came at each other too quickly and their noses bumped as she placed a quick, closed-mouth kiss on his lips. She drew back just as quickly, her cheeks burning.

“See what I mean? Awkward,” she said. Her fingers uncurled from his suit lapel and she smoothed the fabric matter-of-factly, even as her heart sank straight into her butt. Finally locked lips with the guy she’d been lusting after for over a year and it was a total misfire. “Anyway, it's like you said. It's not going to come up.” 

“Bullshit, that wasn’t a kiss.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure Webster’s would disagree with you there, buddy.”

Challenge in his eyes, Clint slid his hand into her hair at the base of her neck, tilting her head back ever so gently. He scritched at her scalp and Darcy’s eyes fluttered shut, so she missed the moment when Clint leaned in and sealed his lips to hers, right on target. 

She sighed into the gentle pressure and he deepened the kiss, skimming his tongue along her lower lip. Darcy spared a mournful thought for the state her lipstick would be in after this before opening further for him and sliding her tongue against his. Her hands went to his chest, smoothing over the fine weave of his shirt and toying with the buttons. He nipped at her lower lip, sucking on it lightly, before soothing it with another gentle, unhurried kiss. 

Was it good that he was a good kisser or was this just going to make things so much worse when they no longer had the excuse of being undercover? She expected him to pull away, restore some sanity and distance between them. The only reason she didn’t do it herself, was well, this was probably her only shot and dammit if she wasn’t gonna shoot it. They kissed long enough that Darcy felt half drunk on the feel of his lips and the press of his hand in her hair. 

He stilled suddenly and Darcy pulled just far enough away to catch the guilty look in his eyes. He pressed one last kiss to her swollen lips before releasing her and settling back in his seat.

“Yeah, we’re still in the car. Give us sixty before we head in,” he said into the humid stillness of the car. 

Oh right. Natasha. Mission. Bad guys to foil. Darcy pulled down the visor to assess the damage and thankfully she just needed a fresh coat of lipstick. Clint had fared much worse. Her deep red lipstick had turned him into a Joker wannabe. She fished around in the glove box for a napkin and found only a gun and the rental receipt. Not great, but it would have to do. She handed him the receipt and let him take care of the mess while she touched up her own lips. 

He managed to get most of it, but there was just a little smear at the corner of his mouth. She reached over and wiped it away for him with her thumb and he caught her wrist before she could pull away. With his eyes on hers, he pressed a soft kiss to the palm of her hand, and Darcy couldn’t help the shuddery little breath she sucked in. She couldn’t be imagining the promise in his gaze, right?

“Ready?”

She nodded silently and together they made their way down the quay to the brilliantly lit superyacht moored at the very end of the dock.

* * *

“I'm going quiet for now, but if it seems like you're getting distracted by Darcy, I promise you I will rip your dick off and feed it to you. You guys are cute together but save it for the ride home,” Natasha hissed into his ear.

Nothing like the threat of dismemberment to kill the mood. Silently, he thanked her for the mental cool down. That make out session in the car had him thoroughly distracted and he needed to be on top of his game for Darcy's sake if not his own. 

“You're going to be fine,” Natasha added quietly. “Just don't do anything stupider than usual.”

That left a whole lot of stupid to wiggle around in. Case in point, the last five minutes. What the hell had he been thinking? Well, he hadn’t. That was the problem. He’d seen the chance to kiss Darcy and instinctively jumped at it. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that she seemed to be just as interested in him as he was in her. Of course, even as stupid as he was, he'd made it this far in life, so maybe Nat was right and everything would work itself out.

The guys working security at the bottom of the gangplank were physically imposing, but they merely checked that Grant Miller was on their list before waving them through. Amatuers. 

Once on board, a waitress dressed like a sailor in a porno offered them champagne from a tray. Clint waved her off. He wouldn't be drinking tonight so he could keep his mind on both the game and his real reason for being here and Darcy didn't look inclined to resume her drinking binge from earlier.

“This thing is the size of my last apartment building,” Darcy said, looking around in wonder. “I've already counted three chandeliers and we haven't even made it inside yet.” 

“It's pretty fancy,” Clint agreed. Either this guy was deeply in debt or their best guesses on Volta's finances didn't even come close. Even seeing it up close, this kind of wealth was incomprehensible. Stark had this kind of money. More actually, but he spent most of his money on cars and gadgets for the team and did fuck knows with the rest of it. He'd never thought of Tony Stark as being subtle, but he obviously showed more restraint than any of them gave him credit for. 

Behind them, the gangplank clanked loudly as it disengaged from the deck and a crew member closed off the opening in the railing they'd just walked through.

“What's going on?” Darcy asked, her hand tightening on his.

“Looks like we're going on a ride.” He looked down at her wide eyes and thinned lips. “It's probably not too late to get off if you don't want to stay.”

She gave one last glance at the dock, then squared her shoulders and smiled up at him. “No. It's fine. I'm sure it'll be fun.”

The brave face she put on made him want to kiss her again, but he was fuzzy on whether that was still against the rules so he settled for squeezing her hand. He knew they'd find a way off the boat if they needed it, he just hoped she trusted him enough to know that was an option.

“I don't like this.” Natasha said over the comms. 

Clint didn't like it either. This didn't fit Volta's pattern of behavior. Erratic as it was, even he had routines that he followed and leaving dock during a party was not something they'd seen before.

There wasn't much they could do with the yacht already drifting away from the quay except continue on as planned. With one last glance at dry land, Clint led Darcy inside so they could meet their host.

Lorenzo intercepted them as they entered the main lounge area. There were lots of low, ultra modern sofas and chairs in little clusters, each one adorned by women wearing bright colors and not enough fabric. Between the conversational areas stood unsettling table lamps with sculptures of nude women as the bases and the lampshades as the “heads.” Classy. There were some men too, most of them easily identified as Volta's men. Big, bulky linebackers types that he hired out of Eastern Europe in suits that didn't fit right. 

One of Volta's friends from childhood, Lorenzo didn't fit that mold. He was squat, barely taller than Darcy, and thick around the middle. He approached them with a friendly smile for Clint and a long, lewd look at Darcy's breasts. It was all Clint could do not to backhand some manners into the guy. 

“I shouldn't have doubted you, amico. She's fucking hot. Hold on to her tight or one of the other guys might steal her away.”

“We're gonna have some problems if that happens,” Clint warned. His gritted teeth might, if you squinted, be mistaken for a smile.

“Kidding! I'm kidding of course. Leave your girl here with the other women and I'll show you where to cash in.”

Clint pressed a kiss to Darcy's cheek and reluctantly, left her behind. She would be fine as long as she stayed with the other women and he'd do his best to keep an eye on her from the table. 

“She'll be fine, focus on the job,” Natasha echoed.

Fine. It was all fine. All he had to do was play poker with Stark’s money and make conversation while he did it. Piece of cake.


	6. Chapter 6

The clutch of women glanced at her again and tittered among themselves. Well this sucked donkey balls. She thought she’d left this mean girl bullshit behind in high school. 

A woman around her age, wearing an ugly yellow dress that somehow managed to look phenomenal against her golden skin and long black hair, sidled up and perched on the arm of Darcy’s chair.

“You don’t speak Italian, do you?” the girl asked. Her accent said that she certainly did, though her English showed no hesitancy. 

“I don’t,” she said shortly. Once she was back home, Darcy really needed to step up her Duolingo lessons. Being monolingual was starting to make her feel stupid.

“They’re being pretty awful about you over there. Called you a fat cow, among other things.”

What exactly was the point of passing on this information? Did she want to make sure Darcy understood so that they all could be sure she felt bad about herself? Well the joke was on them, because Darcy had stopped caring what other people thought about her body years ago.

“They’re just jealous that I didn’t have to pay for my boobs,” she said. 

The girl laughed and held out her hand. “I’m Sofia.”

“Jenna,” Darcy said, shaking it hesitantly. Was this just how rich bitches made friends?

“You know, you look really familiar,” Sofia said, casually scrolling through her phone. “Were you at a wedding recently?” 

Fear stuck in Darcy’s throat. Sofia couldn’t have been at Vanessa’s wedding. The guestlist had been small enough that Darcy would have recognized her even if she didn’t know her by name. 

“I go to weddings all the time. Which one are you talking about?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but it’s not even one I went to. I just saw the pictures and your face looked so-- Ah, here it is.” Sofia turned her phone around to show Darcy her own face staring back at her from Vanessa’s instagram.

The picture was of them prepping for the wedding. Darcy was in the background, but still easily recognizable and most importantly, she was tagged in the photo. She took a drink of her soda water to give herself another second before she had to speak. Her own instagram was private, but it very clearly said her first name in the bio. She could login and change her profile, but what if Sofia had already looked? And besides, she had left her phone back at the hotel. 

“Oh yeah, that’s me. Do you know Vanessa? It was such a beautiful wedding.” Natasha had said she should stick close to the truth, so at a loss for anything else to say, that’s what she did.

“No, I just follow her for hair tips and hotel recommendations like everyone else. How do you know her?” Sofia slid the phone into a clutch and Darcy swallowed her sigh of relief.

“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” Darcy said, then winced internally because that was way too specific. Scrambling for another topic, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “What do you think about that curling iron she did an ad for last month? All of the reviews say it’s great but I want to make sure it’s worth the money before I buy.”

“Oh, it is! I used it tonight, actually.” Sofia exclaimed, ghosting her hand over her perfect vintage Hollywood waves.

“Wow, it really does work,” Darcy enthused. “Your hair is gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Sofia said. “It’s not as nice as your friend’s of course.”

“Oh, well if it makes you feel any better, her hair is mostly extensions. She says it’s very common amongst influencers, so you know, keep that in mind when you’re looking at how perfect they always look.”

“Extensions! Of course, I should have known,” Sofia said, touching her fingertips to her forehead like a more elegant version of a facepalm. “You’re very good at that, by the way.”

“Good at what?” Darcy asked.

“Keeping the conversation on someone else. I almost didn’t notice. Tell me, are you a professional? One of Valentino’s?” Sofia leaned towards her, stage whispering like they were sharing a naughty secret.

A trickle of sweat ran down her back. “I’m not with Valentino,” she said.

“No, she’s with me,” Clint said from behind her, ducking down to smack a kiss on her cheek and then pulled her to her feet. “I’ve got a five minute break. Want to keep me company?”

“Of course,” Darcy said, and it only had a little to do with trying to escape that viper at her back. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sofia called after them. 

“Make a friend?” Clint asked. 

He was leading her down, further into the yacht and past closed doors with lots of suspicious noises coming from them. Darcy seriously hoped these women were getting paid well for their services because every guy she’d seen here tonight had looked mean or ugly or both.

“Sort of,” Darcy said, fighting the urge to whisper. Natasha had warned her that whispers were more suspicious and easier to hear than just keeping your voice low. “We were sharing hair tips and discovered that apparently we have a mutual acquaintance.”

Clint shot her a mildly alarmed look and pulled her into a small, unused lounge. “Should I be worried?”

“I don't think so.” Darcy paused, considering the way Sofia had picked up on her subject changes. “Not yet, anyway. You heard her, she thinks I'm a prostitute. I do wish I had my phone so I could change my Instagram profile though.”

There was an oversized chair, just big enough for both of them to squeeze onto, positioned to look out at the sea and another one of those freaky naked lady lamps. This one was life-sized and standing in the corner and Darcy almost wanted to go peek under the lampshade to make sure it wasn’t a real woman under there. 

Clint sat and Darcy curled against him, throwing her legs over his. Totally just so they could fit better, not because she _really_ wanted to sit in his lap or anything. He put his hand on her shin, his thumb idly stroking her skin through her stockings, and making her tingle all over. All from just touching her _shin_. Jesus. 

Another couple stumbled into the lounge, laughing loudly and pawing at each other. The woman caught sight of them and pulled up short. She scowled and said something Darcy couldn’t understand, gesturing around the lounge.

“What?” Darcy had a pretty good idea what the woman wanted, but she was comfy and besides, they were here first.

The woman glared at her and spat something that most definitely meant, “bitch.” Didn’t need to be bilingual to understand that one. The man laughed and pulled the woman away, further down the hall. Then Clint leaned in close, his lips hovering close to the corner of her jaw, and Darcy forgot all about the other couple. Another millimeter closer and he’d be kissing her. 

“Nat purged your social media of all identifying details earlier.”

Relief swept through Darcy and with a happy little laugh, she turned her head to kiss him square on the mouth. Realizing what she'd done, but not quite sure if she was forgetting her own rule or breaking it on purpose, she pulled away to see Clint looking stunned. He had his hand raised like he’d been about to touch her face and he let it fall without completing the motion.

“I have to get back to the table,” he said regretfully. 

“Of course, let's go.” She tried to get to her feet, but he held on tight to her legs. 

“Wait.” 

“You just said you had to go.”

“I know I did, I just--” He cleared his throat and his eyes darted away from hers and back again. “Just for the record, I would be okay with you doing that again.” 

Darcy’s eyes flicked to his lips. She’d gotten lipstick on him again and she rubbed at the smudge with her thumb. She really, really wanted to kiss him again, but felt too jumpy to fully appreciate it. She felt like there were distant alarm bells going off that only she could hear. 

“Get what you need so we can get the hell off this boat and I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”

“You got yourself a deal,” he said, eyes blazing with intent. He placed one last kiss, carefully, deliberately at the corner of her lips and then helped her get to her feet. He left her on the party deck with the other WAGs with a parting squeeze of his hand and one last look promising that they weren’t done.

* * *

The dealer flipped over the Turn and Clint raised the bet even though he had nothing. It wasn’t his money and he wouldn’t get to keep anything he won, so what did he care? He just had to stay in the game and keep conversation flowing and he could do that all night. People liked you better when you were losing and had the grace to not get grumpy about it and Clint had about three quarters of a million Euros left of borrowed grace. 

“I envy the freedom you have with a setup like this, Benicio. Where are you headed next?” Clint asked as the other players took their turns calling his bet. 

Volta smiled and tossed in his own chips. “It is as you said. I am free to move on a whim. For now, we are here. Tomorrow, wherever I feel like going.” 

“Would you quit asking him such blatant questions?” Natasha said in his ear. “You haven’t even fully established a rapport yet. He’s not going to tell you anything if you don’t warm him up first.”

That was not news and it was frankly insulting that Natasha thought he needed the reminder. Interrogation and manipulation weren’t his strong points, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what he was doing. This is why they hated switching roles though, and he knew he’d be just as much of a nag if she was up on a rooftop and he was forced to just sit back and watch while she did something he knew he could do better. Just one more reason to get this damn job over with.

That wasn’t the way subtle interrogations worked, though. They were never quick and easy. He needed to stretch it out, tease the details out of Volta so slowly he didn’t even realize he was giving anything away, but Darcy’s promise was motivating him to move a little faster than he should. It just figured this was his luck. He’d tortured himself needlessly with an entire year of staying away from Darcy and now that he’d finally decided to make his move, he was getting cockblocked by _work_. 

The River didn't bring him any better luck, so he checked and then folded when another player raised. There went another two thousand Euros. He wondered how much was that in US dollars, then quickly decided he didn’t really want to know. Whatever it was, he could buy a hell of a lot of tacos with it.

“Wow, Lorenzo wasn't kidding. You boys sure do play a mean game of poker.”

“I'll have to thank him for introducing us,” Volta said. “It has been a pleasure talking your money.”

The other men at the table chuckled and Clint laughed easily at the joke too, picturing the look on Volta’s face when he learned that his guns were gone and realized that Clint had been the one to make it happen.

“Oh just you wait. It'll be mine again by the end of the night,” Clint said. He'd take his money back, some of theirs, and a good chunk of Volta's villainous profits once he got the information he needed.


	7. Chapter 7

When Darcy got back to the lounge, Sofia was at the bar and chatting with another woman. Darcy attempted to look busy with getting a plate of cheese and crackers from the snack table, but Sofia caught her eye anyway and waved her over. Damn. She plastered on a smile and went to join them.

“Hello again,” she said.

“Jenna, darling, have you met our delightful hostess?” Sofia asked, reeling her in and linking elbows with her like they were old friends. “This is Felicity Volta. Felicity, Jenna here came with that big American who’s losing quite badly to your husband.”

“Is he losing? He didn’t tell me that,” Darcy said. She craned her neck to see the stack of chips in front of Clint. It looked like he still had a lot to play with.

“Is that something he would tell you?” Felicity asked in a plummy British accent. “Benicio never tells me if he wins or loses, I just have to figure it out from his mood afterwards.”

“He’s usually pretty up front with me about that sort of thing,” Darcy lied. Clint’s level of forthcomingness was as much a mystery to her as it was to these strangers. “But we didn’t do much talking during the break.” 

“Perhaps you’re the reason he’s losing, then,” Sofia said with a grin. “He can't keep his eyes off of you.”

Darcy looked again, but Clint was busy laughing it up with the other players. Staying focused, as he should. 

“Hmph, what's that like?” Felicity said, downing the rest of her drink. She signaled the bartender for another and took a long pull off the new vodka soda the second it touched her hand.

“I can't get over how beautiful this yacht is, Felicity,” Darcy said after sharing an uncomfortable glance with Sofia. “Did you decorate it yourself?”

“Oh goodness.” Felicity’s mood shifted from bitter to bashful. “Thank you, I did. I’ve never spent so much money in one go, but I rather think the overall effect was worth it.”

“It’s sort of Neo-Classical meets Bauhaus. It’s so unique,” Darcy said. Unique was one word for it. Hideous would be just as accurate.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was going for, thank you!” 

Her smile made her look very young under the professional blowout and thick makeup. At first glance, Darcy would have said Felicity was in her early thirties, but now she guessed that estimate was off by about ten years. Volta’s new wife was legal, but just barely. Darcy swallowed her grimace at that realization and pushed on. 

“What a way to take a vacation. I don’t think I’d ever go home again.”

Sofia laughed, but it had an edge to it. “This is home. We’re nomads.”

“Benicio bought the _Bella Donna_ as a wedding present.” Felicity’s smile turned sour and she took another lengthy sip of her drink. “For our never-ending honeymoon, you know. A new country every week with our travelling court of whores and jesters for company. It’s been five months and I haven't even seen our house in Milan yet.”

“Well I'm sure you've seen a lot of really great places, though. I wish I had the time to travel more,” Darcy said. Oh this was so awkward. She really needed to get out of this conversation. Did Clint need her? No? Damn.

“Oh, I have. Seen a lot of shitholes, too. We're headed to another shithole tomorrow. Have you ever been to Ibiza? Absolutely crawling with tourists and not a single decent manicurist on the whole bloody island.”

Well now that was interesting. Not the raging classism, of course, but the location was news to her. Did Clint and Natasha know?

“I keep telling you to keep one on staff, Felicity,” Sofia chimed in, critically inspecting her own perfect nails.

“I take it you don't get to plan the itinerary,” Darcy said sympathetically, trying to give Felicity a little push to complain some more. Poor girl sounded like she needed the opportunity to vent.

“Who me? Of course not, I'm only his bloody wife. Let me tell you, if I had known that this marriage would be nothing but one never ending business trip, I never would have married him. I don't care _how_ much money he has.”

“Business trip? I thought you said this was your honeymoon,” Darcy said.

“I was being facetious, you idiot,” Felicity hissed, her eyes brimming with angry tears. “My sweet husband can't get it up for me unless there's another woman in the room and I'm trapped on this floating brothel. Does that really sound like a honeymoon to you?”

“No. No, it doesn't,” Darcy said quietly. She had pushed too hard, obviously.

“Felicity, why don't I walk you back to your room?” Sofia said. 

She steered her friend away from the bar, shooting a look back at Darcy that might have been exasperation or suspicion or any number of emotions. Darcy didn't know her well enough to guess. At a loss for what to do now, Darcy looked toward Clint again and this time he was looking right back at her. His lips curled up in a smile that made her stomach flutter and she could only hope that her answering smile didn't look too goofy. 

One of the other men at the table said something and the rest all laughed raucously. Whatever it was made Clint look away and duck his head before shrugging and saying something that made them laugh even harder. Honestly, she was glad they were out of earshot. She felt bad for Natasha on the other side of Clint's comm having to sit through hours of bad men talking.

* * *

“I'm telling her you said that,” Natasha told him.

She wouldn't, would she? He had been in character! Grant Miller was an ass, trying too hard to fit in with even bigger asses. Clint Barton respected women. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time his mouth had gotten him in trouble.

After a few hands where Clint focused on winning his previous losses back, he still hadn’t made any progress on Volta. All these assholes wanted to talk about were cars and the size of their girlfriend’s tits. The woman in the yellow dress that had been talking to Darcy earlier approached the table. She whispered something in Volta’s ear and as he listened, his mood visibly darkened as he obviously received some bad news. He folded what Clint knew to be a winning hand and pushed away from the table with an aggravated sigh. 

“I’m afraid we must take another break while I deal with my hysterical wife,” he said and marched off. 

“Well that’ll be another hour, at least,” said Baldy on his left, tossing in his own cards.

Moustache snorted. “We’ll be lucky if we get back to the game at all.” 

“We can keep playing without him, can’t we fellas?” Clint asked. He had nothing so far and if Volta didn’t come back to the table, maybe he could get one of these other guys to get into a sharing mood.

Frenchie over on the end shook his head. “There is no game without Benicio. Have a drink, have your girl. Enjoy the party.”

“When do we get back into dock?”

“Midnight? Morning?” Moustache shrugged. “It’s a big boat. Find a bed if you need one.”

“Well in that case, I guess I better go find my girl,” Clint said with a smirk.

He traded his chips for a wire back into Grant Miller’s account and got himself a beer at the bar before he went out to the lounge where Darcy was waiting. Fucking hell, this mission was a waste of time. 

“I think we need to get you guys out of there,” Natasha said, confirming his own feelings. 

“Hey there,” he said, taking a seat next to Darcy.

“Hey yourself. Don’t tell me you lost all your money already.”

“No, but the game’s over. Volta’s wife got upset about something and the other guys don’t think he’s coming back to the table.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. She bit her lip and shot him a guilty glance. “That might be my fault. We were just making small talk, but she was really drunk and she got mad fast. Sorry.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I should have just been happy playing at the casino, but now here we are, stuck on some stranger’s boat in the middle of the Mediterranean until he decides to turn us around.” This mission had been a disaster from the get go. It was hardly Darcy’s fault for setting off the volatile wife. He finished off his beer in one long gulp and ditched it on an end table. “I hear there are rooms we can use. Let’s go find an open one, yeah?”

“Clint, if you have sex with her on that boat, I am singing It’s a Small World the whole time,” Natasha threatened. “No, you know what? I don’t trust you to be able to wait until morning to get laid. Go down to the engine room. We’re getting you guys off that boat.”

Now that was uncalled for. He wasn’t a mindless fucking machine without any self-control. Did he want to have sex with Darcy? Yes. But even he knew to keep his pants on during a mission, with a fake girlfriend as a part of his cover or not. Was he going to complain about getting off the boat faster, though? Hell no. 

Darcy put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet and into his chest. “So we’re just going to sleep here and hope we wind up back in Monte Carlo in the morning?”

“We don’t have to sleep,” he said, just to watch her blush. “C’mon, let’s find somewhere more private so I can tell you all about what I have planned.”

Quietly, Natasha started humming under her breath.

“It would be nice to be alone,” Darcy said, her gaze sliding past his eyes and settling around where he guessed his ear was.

What exactly had he done that he earned the sort of reputation where both of these women thought he would have sex while his partner was on comms with him? He bent and brushed his lips over the curve of her ear.

“Alone is the only way I want you, I promise.” 

Darcy smiled and Natasha stopped humming and that would have to do for now, he guessed. He led Darcy downstairs, past loud rooms and quiet ones too, then down another, smaller staircase to a short, deserted hallway with a door at the end. She looked up at him, confused and he put his arms around her.

“I believe we had a deal,” he said.

“We did,” she said and looked down the hall at the unmarked door. “Is this where you live up to your part?”

“That’s the plan. I might need a little help, though,” he said. He trailed his fingers down her bare arm and when he got to it, lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. Did they really need to maintain a ruse when no one was watching them? Probably not. But it wouldn’t hurt anything either.

* * *

“Always happy to help,” Darcy said and reeled him in by his tie, backing up until she was pressed against the smooth wood-paneled bulkhead. 

Clint followed willingly, moving in closer until he was draped across her front. He slipped a hand around to the small of her back to pull her flush against him. Darcy bared her neck in invitation and he ran his lips over her collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses all the way up the sensitive side of her neck. Her eyes slid closed, but she knew she should probably keep an eye out. Later, when this was all over, she could revisit this moment and enjoy it fully. Now they had a job to do. She opened her eyes to slits and peered down the hallway through her eyelashes. 

“Anyone coming?” Clint said, his mouth pressing tiny, teasing kisses just below her ear.

“No,” she breathed.

“Time to move,” he said. He pulled her away from the wall and backed her blindly down the hall to the engine room, his lips hot at her pulse. 

Between the adrenaline rush from sneaking around and Clint's roving hands and mouth, her whole body tingled. Her nipples felt painfully tight and she rubbed against him trying to get some relief. He breathed out harshly and suddenly she was stuck between a hard place and Clint. She needed him even closer. Her leg wrapped around his and he responded immediately, rocking into her and proving she wasn’t the only one affected by this little show they were putting on for an empty hallway. It was both a relief to feel his cock hard against her and incredibly frustrating because she knew they needed to cool it. 

The wall at her back gave way without any warning and Darcy realized he'd backed her up against the engine room door. They fell gracelessly through the door, Clint laughing like a drunk idiot against her shoulder.

“Whoops,” he said.

A man yelled at them in… something. One of the romance languages. Even if Darcy wasn't a total dunce when it came to languages, he was speaking so rapidly it was impossible to discern individual words. She understood shouting and handing waving just fine, though. Clint removed his hand from her hair, snagging it as he pulled away, and stepped around Darcy, one hand held up placatingly. 

“Hey man, we thought this was a bedroom. Sorry, we'll just--”

Something too small to see flicked out from Clint’s other hand and hit the guy squarely between his bushy eyebrows. He blinked rapidly, stunned but apparently unhurt, then Clint was on him with a series of rapid strikes to the face. One last hook to the jaw and the guy dropped to the deck. Clint stooped to retrieve his weapon and handed it to Darcy. It was one of her bobby pins. 

Darcy was, by and large, a pacifist. She’d defend herself if she needed to, but she didn’t usually enjoy gratuitous violence. And yet, watching Clint take that guy down so quickly and with such an unconventional weapon was possibly the hottest thing she’d ever seen. Shaking her head at herself, she slid the pin back into her hair and closed the door behind them. 

“Alright,” Clint muttered to himself. “What the fuck does a stabilizer look like and how do I disable it?” He paused in that way that meant Natasha was feeding him information and swore again. “ _Three_? It’ll be too suspicious if I take them all out. We’re going to have to hope one gives us enough bump and sway to do the trick.”

Darcy watched as he opened a panel in the deck, revealing what looked like a big white ball with a bunch of rubber tubing connected to it. There was a loud whirring coming from the ball, which meant whatever was inside was moving very fast, and that meant the tubing was probably how it kept cool. If they disconnected the tubing, the whole thing should overheat and fail within a matter of minutes. Darcy cast around for a wrench and found one on a tragically disorganized workbench. Eyebrows McGee over there was worse than Jane at keeping his work station clean. 

Elbowing Clint out of the way, Darcy set about disconnecting the tubing, carefully loosening one until it began leaking coolant fluid, but still looked attached. “There. I can’t say how long it will take to fail and I don’t know how much difference we’ll feel with only one stabilizer offline, but if I leave it like that, it might be confused for an accidental failure.”

Clint was staring at her in amazement. “How did you know to do that?”

“I’ve had to work on too many of Jane’s frankenmachines. I couldn’t help but pick up a little mechanical competency along the way.” She stood and tossed the wrench back on the workbench and wiped her hands on a spare rag. “We should probably go, right? What do you want to do about this guy?”

They both stared down at Eyebrows in silence. He’d seen their faces and he could wake up at any moment. If he came around before they got back to dock, they were toast, and even if he stayed knocked out long enough for them to get away, it might still make Volta suspicious enough to change the shipment. 

“Oh!” Darcy exclaimed, suddenly remembering she hadn’t told Clint yet. “Ibiza! They’re going to Ibiza next. Did you already know that?”

“No. Are you sure?”

“That’s why Felicity was so upset. It’s a shithole, apparently. She hates that he’s been dragging her all over the Mediterranean.”

Clint grabbed her face between his hands and smacked a kiss on her forehead. “Natasha says good job and so do I. You’ve been about a hundred times more useful than I have tonight.”

She smiled up at him, preening under his praise for a moment before she remembered they still had a hairy, smelly problem at their feet. “So what about this guy, then?”

Clint shrugged. “We’ll have to stuff him in a closet and hope no one comes looking for him until tomorrow.”

“But won’t he be the first person they want to talk to when the boat suddenly starts rocking?”

“I didn’t say it was a good plan.” Clint rolled his eyes. “Nat says we should throw him overboard.”

Darcy’s eyes widened in alarm. That would almost definitely kill the guy. 

“She’s probably joking,” Clint tried to reassure her. 

Darcy was not reassured.

“What if we just leave him here and lie our asses off? Just tell people you punched him because he was coming at you.”

“And the fact that we were in the engine room just before something went wrong?” Clint asked.

“It’s not any worse than your plan.”

“Shit. _Shit_.” Clint groaned in frustration. “We’re going to have to go with yours. We were looking for a bedroom, Groucho here got aggressive, and I knocked him out in self-defense. No idea why the boat’s moving like that. Got it?” 

“Got it.”

“Great. Don’t worry, everything will be fine. We can always steal a lifeboat if this doesn’t work out.” Clint wrapped his hand around hers gave it a squeeze and opened the door.


	8. Chapter 8

The scene in the hallway registered to Darcy in flashes. There were two people in the hall. One of them was Sofia and she was scared. Her dress was torn, her bra was showing. The other one was a huge man with broad shoulders stuffed into a sports coat and hands big enough to cover Sofia’s whole face. He had a scar on his chin.

It all coalesced and the very moment Darcy realized this was the man Natasha had warned her about and that he was assaulting the girl she had just met, Clint was off like a shot down the hallway. He took Karlsson by surprise, tackling him into a wall and sending a knife spinning across the carpet. Darcy pulled Sofia away from the fight, giving her a quick visual check for wounds, but she seemed physically unharmed. Karlsson hadn’t gotten a chance to use the knife on her. 

Darcy pushed her into the engine room, just trying to get her someplace safe and in the process, forgetting all about their little oopsie laying on the engine room floor. Sofia screamed when she saw him and Darcy held out her hands and tried to project calming energies even though she was right on the verge of freaking out along with Sofia.

“He’s fine. I promise he’s fine. That guy you were just with is much scarier than I am, okay? Stay here while I go help my boyfriend take care of that asshole in the hallway.” 

Sofia stared at her wide-eyed and shaky, but after a moment nodded and sank to the floor, clutching her ripped dress to her chest. Satisfied she’d stay put, Darcy snatched an oversized pipe wrench off the workbench and stuck her head back out into the hall. 

While she was gone, Clint had grabbed the knife, but Karlsson had drawn a gun and the two of them were locked in a contest of strength, holding onto each other’s wrists to keep the weapons out of play. Catching sight of her over Karlsson’s shoulder, Clint yelled loudly in his face and then headbutted him right in the nose. That was apparently all the distraction she was going to get, so she ran up to them, swung with all her might, and smashed the wrench into the back of Karlsson’s head. 

Karlsson staggered, then fell to the ground in a motionless heap. Clint retrieved the gun from his hand, immediately ejecting the magazine and clearing the chamber. Blood trickled from a cut on the back of Karlsson’s bald head and Darcy watched as it trailed down his neck. Was he dead? Did she just kill someone?

The floor heaved under their feet and Darcy stumbled into Clint’s side. He put a hand out to steady her, then pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her, the cold metal of the gun resting against her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said into her hair. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Our plan just got a lot more complicated,” she said. The boat rocked again and Darcy felt the first stirrings of nausea. Either the stabilizer had already failed or they’d wandered into a hurricane. 

“Is he dead?” Sofia asked, startling Darcy away from Clint. 

“No, the bastard’s still breathing,” Clint said. 

The wave of relief Darcy felt at that just made the nausea worse. 

“Damn,” Sofia said. She delivered a swift stomp of her stiletto to Karlsson’s junk.

“Are you okay?” Darcy asked her.

“Better than you, I think,” she said, peering at Darcy’s face critically. “Are you the reason we can’t stand still all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean?” Darcy asked. Sofia didn’t answer, but she didn’t look like she found Darcy very convincing either. 

The proverbial herd of elephants on the stairs made them all turn towards the noise and then the cramped hallway was full of suited giants as Volta’s goons surrounded them. In the blink of an eye, Clint was disarmed and shoved roughly against a wall. Sofia promptly burst into tears.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” she wailed at them, throwing herself on the security guard closest to her. She continued in rapid Italian, gesturing wildly at the engine room and her dress and every so often punctuating her story with kicks to Karlsson’s limp body. Finally, she embraced Darcy, gratitude shining in her eyes, and then gestured impatiently for them to release Clint so she could hug him too.

“You saved me,” she said to Darcy. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Darcy said, catching on to what Sofia was doing. They might just get out of this okay after all.

“What were you doing down here?” one of the guards asked her.

The blush that rose to Darcy’s face was very real. “We were just looking for some privacy.”

“We came down here and this guy had a knife pulled on the girl. I don’t know about you guys, but that’s not how I get off,” Clint said.

“Could just be a misunderstanding,” one of the guards said and everyone else in the hallway turned disbelieving faces on him. “Or not.”

* * *

The first guard took charge from there, instructing them all to head back up the stairs and pulling a zip tie out of nowhere to restrain Karlsson. Upstairs, Clint followed Darcy as she made a beeline for the outdoor lounge. She shivered and Clint slipped off his jacket to drape over her shoulders. 

“You okay?” He asked. She was starting to look a little pale.

Darcy shook her head and kept on staring fixedly at the lights on shore. They were getting closer, thank god. Between the three of them, they had done a pretty convincing job of blaming everything that went wrong downstairs on Karlsson. None of the guards seemed willing to question their wild card in the yellow dress. 

“Darcy gets seasick,” Natasha told him over the comms. She sounded kind of guilty, but that couldn't be right. 

“Hang in there, Darcy. We'll be back on land soon.” He rubbed her back in what he hoped was a comforting motion and she moaned pitifully. If she could just hold on a little longer, maybe she wouldn’t even throw up. 

They stayed out there, Darcy just barely holding on to her lunch and Clint wishing he could do anything at all to help, while the boat slowly made its way back to the marina. That was where Lorenzo found them, just before docking. 

“This was an exciting night, eh?” he said.

“Yeah, I’d say thanks for the invite, but if it’s all the same, I don’t think I’ll be coming back for another game,” Clint said.

“No, I didn’t think you would. And no offense, but I don’t think you would be invited back. I wanted to thank you for rescuing my sister, though.”

“Your sister? I didn’t realize. I’m glad we got lost, I guess. Things could have gone very badly for her.”

“Maybe now she’ll learn not to go off with strange men,” he said with a laugh and turned to Darcy. “And you, bella. Boats are not your thing, are they?”

Darcy pressed her lips together, her already pale face growing whiter, and promptly vomited all over Lorenzo’s very expensive shoes. 

“No, I guess they aren’t,” Clint said as Lorenzo backed away in horror, leaving them alone once again.

Clint rubbed Darcy’s back soothingly. “You get any on you?”

She shook her head no.

“You’re amazing,” he said and kissed her sweaty temple. “That was so gross and so spectacular.”

“I hate you,” she said, even as she curled into him and leaned her head on his chest. 

“Let’s get you some water, Linda Blair.”

He side-stepped them around the pile of puke and sat her down on a cushioned lounger while he went to the bar for a bottle of water and a handful of mints. When he came back, Darcy was having a quiet conversation with her new friend. Her yellow eye-sore of a dress was gone and now she was in a hoodie and yoga pants.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I promised Jenna I’d get her some water to rinse out her mouth.”

“Sofia was just saying thank you again,” Darcy said, taking the water and mints from him.

“And making sure we’re even,” Sofia said. “I don’t need to know why you were down there, I’m just grateful that you were.”

“I think we can all agree things worked out well for all of us,” Clint said in a measured tone. She seemed serious about being grateful, but one word from her and they’d have every one of Volta’s goons on them.

“Be sure that I don’t see you again, Mr. Miller,” Sofia said, standing and offering him her hand.

“You won’t,” he agreed. 

She left and not long after, they were given the all clear to disembark. As they walked back to the car, Darcy stumbling along side of him, Natasha gave him one last directive.

“I’ve already filed a flight plan in Nice. You guys have enough time to come back and get changed and then we’re taking the jet back home.”

Clint waited until they were closed up in the car before responding. “What about Darcy’s intel?”

“Sam, Steve, and Bucky are en route to Ibiza already. Tony is gathering satellite information as we speak. So far, so good. The team has this handled, so you and I get to sit the next week out.”

“Good, I could use a break,” he said. “See you in a few.”

“We’re done for the night, right?” Darcy asked.

“Just about. I’m taking us back to the hotel to change, then it’s a short drive into Nice, and _then_ we’re done. We should be back home in a little over 12 hours.”

“Ugh,” Darcy moaned. “I just want to be in my own bed.”

“Well it’s not yours, but there is a bed on the plane.”

“Seriously? Billionaires really don’t live like normal people, do they?”

“No, but it’s nice to have one of them on our side.” Clint paused. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Never,” she agreed.

The hotel room was empty when they got back, but Natasha had left the desk lamp on, the light shining on a pack of Dramamine, a bottle of water, and a note that just said, “Sorry.”

Darcy grabbed them and disappeared into the bathroom, coming out a minute later looking a little brighter and smelling minty fresh. 

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Almost human.”

“I think your bag was in the bathroom, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” She turned her back to him. “I need help with my zipper.”

He drew it down slowly and sucked in a breath when she let the straps slide off her shoulders and stepped out of it. She turned around to face him and bent to pick up the dress, her magnificent breasts almost spilling out of the top of her bra. She tossed the dress onto the bed and then there was nothing left to obstruct the incredible view of her wide hips framed by a garter belt and stockings. His cock filled with blood so fast he actually got a little dizzy.

“Natasha will be back any minute,” he said, swallowing hard.

“I know, I'm going. Just wanted to give you this.”

She stretched up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He wanted so badly to pull her to him and never let go but there wasn't time for all the things he wanted to do to her, so he let her rock back onto her heels. Let the air rush back in between them.

“The deal was anytime I want,” he said.

“You're right,” Darcy said. She turned and oh god, her _ass_. “Let me know when you want your next one.”

He couldn’t resist her any longer. He grabbed her wrist and spun her back around, gathering her in his arms and sealing their mouths together. She laughed into his mouth and threw her arms around his neck, sliding her tongue against his and rubbing up against him. His hands roamed down her back and like they had a mind of their own, came to rest on her ass. He squeezed and she bit down hard on his lower lip before soothing it with her tongue. 

Fuck. They really didn't have time for this. He growled low in his throat and let go of her. “We have to--”

“I know,” she said. At least she looked as frustrated as he felt.

He watched every sway of her hips as she walked away from him, hypnotized by the sight until the click of the door snapped him out of it. He made quick work of changing into more casual gear and digging the comms out of his ears before replacing them with his usual hearing aids. It'd be nice to ditch them too, but for now he would settle for no one being able to listen in on his conversations.

* * *

Showing off her lingerie for Clint had been an impulsive decision and Darcy was relieved it had paid off because _wow_ would that have been an embarrassing time for him to turn her down. It was strange to think they had spent so long being nothing more than distant acquaintances when they reacted so explosively to each other once they were actually in the same room for more than five minutes. She didn’t know who to blame, but she felt like she had been deprived of a fun time. Even if they never went farther than flirting, that would have been better than a year of watching impossibly hot people hook up all around her while she herself had no prospects. 

Instead, she had been politely ignored by all of them except Jane and Thor, and they were entirely consumed by each other when they were together. 

_Oh, bullshit_ , she scolded herself. That was just the lack of a sex life talking. 

She would probably never be treated like she was a member of the team, but they were all pretty friendly considering she was just a free-loading lab assistant crashing their superhero sleepover. In fact, she would even go as far to say that she was an integral participant in their monthly cultural education nights. A.K.A. Darcy and Sam desperately trying to bring all of the out-of-time and alien weirdos in the house up to speed on pop culture. 

Certainly, no one had ever gone out of their way to make her feel like she didn’t belong there. And if they had, would she have even cared? No, it was just Clint she had wanted attention from and up until today, she had never received it. What had changed and how long was it going to last? Well she’d see where things went and if he ghosted her or they crashed and burned, she could always leave. She didn’t have Jane’s breathless need to learn the secrets of the universe, she just needed a job, and this wasn’t the only job in the world.

Clint was looking more like himself by the time she was finished changing and something about the way his hair stuck up from changing his shirt made her breathe a little easier. Everything would be fine. He was just a guy. Not even a super guy. Maybe they’d have sex, maybe they’d date, but she’d gone 28 years without a broken heart and she wasn’t going to let one happen now. 

He held up his phone. “Natasha’s already in the car. You ready?”

“Almost, hang on.” She stuffed her dress into its garment bag, biting down on a smile over the reason it was out there. “Okay, now I’m good.”

They wheeled their bags out into the hall and Clint held out his hand which she took readily. 

“One last show for the cameras?” she asked.

“Nah, I just wanted to hold your hand,” he said, giving it a little squeeze. 

She ducked her head and squeezed back. Oh yeah, she had this guy in the bag.


	9. Chapter 9

Once they reached cruising altitude, Clint gave up all pretense of having any control over the plane. The need to be near Darcy niggled at him like an itch he couldn't reach. This would be so much simpler if they didn't have Natasha tagging along like a meddling spinster aunt. Not that he'd be any smoother if they were the last two humans on Earth. He'd just have to do what he normally did, make things up as he went along and talk himself out of whatever mess he stumbled into along the way.

“You got it from here, JARVIS?” 

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said in his most soothing and reassuring tones. “You might wish to know that Miss Lewis has laid down in the bedroom, but doesn't appear to be asleep just yet. Miss Romanoff has just entered the lavatory.”

“Helpful as always, JARVIS. Thanks, man.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Barton.”

Talking the opportunity JARVIS had so generously bestowed on him, Clint left the cockpit and quickly made his way down the length of the plane and slipped into the rear cabin. The lights were out, but his eyes soon adjusted to the dimness inside and as he walked over to the ostentatiously large bed that occupied most of the room, he realized Darcy's eyes were open and watching him curiously. 

“Mind if I lay down too?” he asked.

In response, she merely patted the bed next to her and snuggled deeper into her pillow. She smiled, soft and faint from her drowsiness, and he followed the overwhelming urge to hold her close. Toeing off his shoes, he laid down next to her and gathered her in his arms. She sighed sweetly and rubbed her cheek on his chest.

“I'm really tired,” she murmured. “I think the Dramamine is hitting me.”

“Then sleep,” he said. “It's a long flight and I'll be right here.” 

Her breathing soon evened out and Clint felt himself being lulled to sleep as well. 

When he woke again, it was because of Darcy stirring in his arms. She had turned over in her sleep, giving him a face full of hair. He parted it to reveal the vulnerable back of her neck and pressed a kiss there. She shivered in his arms and he smiled against her skin. There was no way that was from being cold. She stretched against him like a cat, but disappointingly remained facing away from him, so he kissed her again, his lips lingering on her skin. She scooted back until her hips bumped back into his, her ass snug against his very interested cock. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who woke up horny. 

His left arm was wedged underneath the pillow and felt half numb, but his right hand was free to slip under the hem of her shirt and skim across the silky skin of her stomach. Her fingers laced with his and Darcy finally turned on to her back to blink up at him sleepily.

“Have a good nap?” He asked.

“Mmhmm. But I think being out long enough to get morning breath counts as more than a nap,” she said in a sleep-husked voice.

“No idea how long we slept but you smell fine to me. How about me?”

Darcy put both of her hands on his face to draw him closer. “I think that question requires a taste test.”

Taking the hint, Clint kissed her. They both had stale breath, but soon all he could taste was Darcy and all he could feel was the softness of her lips and the slickness of her tongue on his. His hand continued it's unhurried exploration, tracing the bottom edge of her bra and gliding over her ribs. Her nails raked over his shoulders and down his back as far as she could reach, ratcheting up his libido and making it difficult to keep things slow and lazy. 

This wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he laid down with her, but he wasn’t about to stop her if this was what she wanted. Rolling with the change in plans, he moved over her and settled into the welcoming vee of her legs. She responded by tugging at his shirt until he was forced to help and yanked it over his head.

“Much better,” Darcy said, smoothing her hands over every inch of his exposed skin. “I’m not sure you should even be allowed to wear shirts.”

“You gonna petition to turn the Avengers facility into a nudist colony?” Clint asked. 

Her hands skated down over his abs and her fingers brushed teasingly along his waistband. His muscles flexed and bunched under her hand and she must have liked what she saw because she went back for another pass and this time her thumbnail flicked the button of his jeans. God knows he didn’t have much to offer except his body, but maybe the muscles would distract her from that sad fact for a little while. 

“Now there’s a thought.” She cocked her head, pretending to consider it. “No, I don’t want to see Tony’s old man balls and he’d be the first one to sign up.”

Clint grimaced and hurriedly shoved that image out of his head. “How about a private retreat instead then? You, me, and this room. No clothing allowed.”

Darcy met his eyes with a sly tilt of her lips and popped the button she had been playing with. “You first, stud.”

“Oh, we’re back to the pet names, huh?” He climbed off the bed and slowly drew his zipper down.

“Just calling it like I see it, hot stuff,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows for a better view. 

Was it just him, or did it get incrementally lighter in here? Jesus, everybody and their artificially intelligent butler was a matchmaker these days. He pushed his jeans off his hips and kicked them away. The socks were next because there was nothing worse than a guy in his socks standing around with a hard on. He hooked his thumbs in his underwear and was about to take them off too when Darcy sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed.

“Wait. Can I?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and grasped him through his boxer briefs, her thumb swiping over the head. She squeezed him in her hands and Clint put his hand under her chin to tilt her mouth up to his for a kiss. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and groaned quietly in encouragement when she finally pulled his boxers off and took his cock in hand. Their kisses grew more heated as she stroked and squeezed until Clint was all but fucking her hand. 

Abruptly, she broke the kiss and ducked her head to swirl her tongue around the head of his cock and Clint felt like the breath had been punched out of him. He could only stare dazedly as he sank deeper into her full, beautiful lips. 

He smoothed his hand over her hair and brushed it away from her face, letting her silky curls run through his fingers. She hummed with pleasure, sending shockwaves all down the length of his cock and making his pulse jump. As phenomenal as this was, it would be over way too soon if she kept it up.

“Stop, come here,” he said, pulling her to her feet and giving her a quick biting kiss. “The nudity was supposed to be a group activity.”

“Sorry, handsome. I just couldn’t help myself,” she said and Clint could only kiss the cheeky smirk off her face. 

They worked together to strip her clothes off of her. Well, Darcy did the stripping and Clint performed quality control to make sure the clothes were really gone, palming her tits and ass and pulling her against him so he could feel her skin against his. 

Her back against his chest, he dragged his hand slowly over the sensitive skin of her stomach just so he could feel her shudder in his arms before moving lower and dipping his fingers into her drenched curls and searching out her clit. He pinched one of her nipples while his other hand worked in tight little circles and his cock ground into the soft flesh of her ass. She arched and rocked in his arms, breath coming in fast, breathy little gasps until she was clinging onto his forearms until before long, she shuddered and whimpered and went limp against him.

“Someday soon,” he said in her ear, “I’m gonna let you be completely selfish and finish what you started, but right now I’d really like to fuck you.”

Darcy groaned, but not in pleasure. Huh. He didn’t think the line had been that bad.

“I don’t have my bag in here,” she said, pulling away from him. “Which means no condoms.”

Well, shit. He wasn’t in the habit of carrying them around either. This being Tony Stark’s plane, though, there had to be some on board. He pulled open the drawer in the nightstand and sure enough, an unopened box stared up at him. 

“Oh, thank god Tony’s an unrepentant horndog,” Darcy said. 

She sat and leaned back on her hands, arching her back and thrusting out her breasts and Clint forgot all about the condoms. She looked like a classic pin-up girl and he just needed a minute to freeze this moment in his mind. He’d been going about this all wrong, he realized. He didn’t just want some quick fuck that was nothing more than a way to release the tension. He needed to touch her all over. To rub his face on her and kiss every inch of her. They had the time, he should take advantage of it.

“You one of those girls who gets hypersensitive after they come?” he asked, crawling over her and hovering with his mouth over her nipple.

“No?” 

“Good,” he said, and darted his tongue out to swirl his tongue around her nipple.

* * *

Growing up, Darcy had heard women on TV shows discuss multiple orgasms like they were mythical experiences. Not only were they unlikely to happen, some women just couldn’t achieve them. As she got older and finally had some sexual experience of her own under her belt, the idea of multiple orgasms still felt elusive. How was it possible for anyone to have more than one back to back without any work up in between? When did the first one stop and the next one begin? That was the problem with getting all of your sex ed from reruns of Sex and the City.

It wasn’t until years later, after a way too frank conversation with Jane about her sex life that Darcy realized that she had the definition screwed up and had actually been having multiple orgasms all along. In fact, she needed around three every time she had sex before she really felt satisfied. All she needed was someone to put in a little work and she could go again and again and again. Unfortunately, that person was usually Darcy herself. 

Guys were lazy, or couldn’t relate to needing more than one, or didn’t know it was even possible. It was fine, she still had a good time, it was just never _great_. It was enough to give her a pleasant little buzz and put a skip in her step, but she was always left wondering what it would be like to have someone really make her scream. To come so hard she felt wrung out and breathless. 

So when Clint had seemed ready to move on to penetration, she hadn’t even been disappointed. She wanted him in her too. Wanted to pull him close and feel his weight on her. Sex was nice. Even if she didn't come from penetration, and she very rarely did, there was something fulfilling about the act itself. 

Then he seemed to change his mind about the condom and Darcy couldn’t help but be confused, especially when he started licking and sucking on her nipple, teasing the other one with the pad of his thumb. Hadn’t they already done the foreplay part?

He settled between her legs again and dragged the hard length of his cock over her clit and Darcy gasped and arched against him. Holy shitballs that felt amazing. She grabbed onto his ass and moved their hips together again, his cock sliding against her easily with how wet she was. The feel of his shaft grinding into her clit was so intense, she couldn’t even feel what he was doing to her nipples anymore, just knew it was contributing to the _good, yes, more_ she couldn’t stop chanting in her head. She became aware of a high pitched whine building in the back of her throat and clamped her hand over her mouth to try and stop it from bursting out. Natasha had probably guessed they weren’t keeping it PG-13 back here, but there was no reason to be obvious about it. 

Clint thrusted against her faster and sucked on her nipple harder and Darcy fell apart, her fingers digging into Clint’s shoulders and her whole body shaking helplessly in his arms. He pulled off her nipple with a loud pop and licked at it with a broad swipe of his tongue, causing her to shiver with aftershocks. He kissed his way up over her chest and neck and finally up to her lips. Half-dazed, she could barely kiss him back. Fuck, that had been great.

“You still doin’ okay?” He said in between kisses.

“Uh huh,” she said with a goofy laugh. She felt kind of loopy and euphoric. His cock was still poking her insistently in the stomach and she was so very ready to feel it inside of her now. 

Clint had other ideas, though. He kissed down the other side of her neck, no more than a brush of his lips on her skin this time, and continued down her body, passing over her breastbone and between her breasts, where her nipples ached like they missed him. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against the curve of her ribs, which made her jump, then soothed the tickle with a kiss. He kept moving down her body like that, touching and kissing her all over. On her stomach, over one hip bone and down to her thighs, until Darcy was close to begging, her thighs clenching with the need for friction.

“Come on, loverboy,” she teased and nudged his side with her knee. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what to do down there.”

“That’s not my name,” he said and moved in the opposite direction she wanted.

“It was Grant, right?” she asked, not quite able to stop herself from laughing.

He narrowed his eyes at her and bit down lightly on the inside of her knee.

“Ow! My mistake, it must be Hannibal,” she said, laughing harder at his exasperated face. “Clint. I’m sorry. Please, Clint?”

“Please what?” 

He was really going to make her say it? Darcy sighed. “Please for the love of god, eat my pussy. And I’m realizing now that the cannibal joke was bad idea.”

He turned his face into her leg, trying to hide his smile, then settled between her legs without any more teasing. Darcy let out a happy sigh when she felt his mouth on her, giving her a pleasant little jolt to her system. Every single nerve ending in her body felt like it had been redirected to her clit, where Clint was patiently swirling his tongue in agonizingly slow circles. It was amazing, it was so, so good, and her belly tightened in anticipation. In hardly no time at all, she was so close. She was going to come any second, she knew it, she just needed a little more.

“Faster,” she panted when she couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, Clint, oh my _god_.” She grabbed the pillow next to her and smushed it down over her face, desperately trying to muffle the moans she couldn’t hold back. 

Clint, the bastard, didn’t speed up at all, but slid his fingers into her pussy and worked them in and out shallowly. Darcy flailed out a hand and clamped down hard when she found his. He laced their fingers together and squeezed, still keeping that unrelentingly slow pace. The orgasm crashed through her like getting caught by a surprise wave at the beach and she bucked against him while he rode it out with her, not letting up with his tongue until she finally went boneless on the mattress. 

Darcy tossed the pillow away to stare up at him, winded and amazed. He wiped at his chin and smirked at her, giving his cock a lazy stroke. 

“You good?”

Darcy let out a tiny hysterical laugh. “I’m great.”

“You got one more in you?” He asked, stretching for the box of condoms and fumbling it open.

“You tell me, champ.” She truthfully felt amazing, but she also felt the most relaxed she ever had in her life. She could roll over and fall back asleep right there, like some shitty sitcom boyfriend.

Clint sighed and rolled the condom on. “So you only say my name if I’m making you scream it?”

“I guess you know what to do if you want to hear it, right?” 

“You sure you want to annoy the guy who’s been so nice to you? Don’t I get a little thanks?”

“Just giving you a target to shoot for. Don’t miss.”

Clint slid into her in one smooth stroke. “I never miss.”

Darcy’s eyes rolled back in her head, and only partially because of their cheesy banter. Was this what sex was supposed to feel like? Every thrust felt like he was pushing into the molten core of her. Like she was filled with magma and Mt. Darcy was about to blow. He palmed her breast and brought her nipple to his mouth. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, scratched at the flexing muscles of his back. No, this wasn’t going to do it. 

She could happily curl around him and luxuriate in the feel of his cock inside her for hours, but he was right, she did owe him some thanks for what was definitely the best sex of her life. Making him hold back his own orgasm for that long when he had already been so patient with her wasn’t being very nice.

“Roll over, babe. I want to be on top.” She nudged at his side and he rolled them both in a swift, dizzying motion. Darcy stared down at his flushed face, her breasts swinging between them, and gave into the sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss him. He tasted like her and sweat and she couldn’t get enough of him. He dragged the rough palms of his hands down her back and over the curve of her ass, thrusting into her from below and Darcy practically purred into his mouth. If she shifted just right, her clit rubbed against the coarse hair at the base of his cock on every down stroke. His hands on her hips, he lifted her up until she was almost completely off of him, then pushed her down as he slammed up into her. 

“Jesus Christ,” she panted into his mouth.

“Nope, that’s not the right name either,” he said, repeating the maneuver.

Darcy bit down on his shoulder and was rewarded with another hard slam into her that made her see stars. Her legs shook and she felt coated in a sheen of sweat. 

“C’mon, beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. “You can do it. Let go.”

“Clint,” she whined. She rested her head helplessly on his shoulder while he pounded into her. “I-I need…”

“I got you, Darcy. Sit up a little.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders and he slowed to a stop beneath her, making her clench around him at the loss of friction. He snaked his hands between them, one going to her clit and the other to her nipple, rubbing them both with tight, fast circles. She held on tight to his shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the tidal wave she could feel building inside of her. He resumed thrusting shallowly into her and in seconds, Darcy was lost. Yelling, wailing, completely unable to hold anything back. He kept moving inside of her as she came down and before long he was coming too, gripping her hips tight enough to hurt and shuddering to stillness. 

They separated reluctantly and Darcy sprawled out on her back while Clint dealt with the condom. After, he stretched out next to her, trailing his fingertips over her arm and chest and down her stomach in light, teasing touches that had her tingling all over until she grabbed his hand to hold it still.

“What’s your middle name?” Darcy asked.

Clint frowned. “Francis. Why?”

“Just want to be accurate when I’m singing your praises.”

“In that case, my full name is Clinton Francis Barton and that was _four_ times.”

“Don’t get a big head, Clinton,” Darcy said, but she kissed him to take the sting out of her words. “I need food, but I don’t know if I can face Natasha after all that racket I just made.” 

“JARVIS?” Clint aimed his question at the ceiling.

“Yes, sir?” 

“Where’s Natasha right now?”

“Ms. Romanoff is in the cockpit at the moment, making use of the noise cancelling headphones. Shall I get her attention for you?”

Darcy yanked the pillow out from under her head and covered her face with it again. She should just jump from the plane right now.

“Thanks, JARVIS, but that’s all we need,” Clint said, apparently unembarrassed that his friend had felt the need to hide out on the opposite side of the plane.

“Of course, sir.”

“See? Not a problem. You go get cleaned up and I’ll get us some grub and check out how much time we have left on the flight. I think we slept through most of it, so we might be almost there.” He tugged at the pillow, but Darcy held fast. “Darcy? You in there?”

She pulled the pillow away. “Are you really not bothered that she knows we just had a _lot_ of sex?”

“Not really?” he said with a shrug. “She’s seen me in way more embarrassing situations than this. Besides, she’s been trying really hard all week to make this happen, so it can’t exactly have been a surprise.”

“What? Why?!” Obviously Darcy hadn’t been mistaken about Natasha’s matchmaker vibes, but she hadn’t realized Clint had been aware of Natasha’s meddling too.

“I don’t even think she’d be able to give you a straight answer on that. She knows I like you but that I didn’t want to ask you out because I’m having kind of a crappy run of luck with women and with you living down the hall… it seemed like it could get messy.” He scrubbed at his face with his hand in frustration and shrugged, looking kind of lost. “Why she decided this was the week to make me do something about it? I don’t know. She was probably just bored. Honestly, she probably didn’t hear a thing. She’s nosy, but she’s not a voyeur. She would have run off to the cockpit once she realized I was back here.”

That was a lot to think about, so Darcy did the only sensible thing she could and started to get dressed. She had a lot of questions but she couldn't sort out which she wanted answered first. Thankfully, Clint got the hint and got dressed himself, letting her run off to the bathroom without another word.

* * *

Arms full of snacks, Clint hesitated on the threshold of the galley. He could take them back to the bedroom cabin, where he and Darcy would be guaranteed to be left alone, or he could settle in one of the cushy love seats in the main cabin, where Darcy would have plenty of room to put between them if that was what she wanted. Before he could decide, Natasha stuck just her head out of the cockpit.

“You guys done boning, yet? It's boring up here.”

“Get back in there!” He hissed. “You're the one who engineered this situation, so it's your own fault if you got sexiled.”

“Give me that bag of chips and you won't hear from me again until we touch ground.”

“Done,” he said and chucked it at her head. “Hey, how much longer do we have?”

Natasha caught the bag neatly. “A little over two hours. Don't fuck it up.”

“Go away,” he said. He pointed forcefully into the cockpit and Natasha rolled her eyes, but went anyway. 

Spilling his haul onto a low table, Clint sat on one of the love seats and asked JARVIS to pull up the entertainment menu on the big screen. In every property Stark owned, nearly every movie and tv show ever made was available to watch at a moment's notice. Life had certainly gotten more dangerous and more complicated since joining the Avengers, but damn if it hadn't gotten more comfortable too. 

“How much longer until we land?” Darcy asked once she was out of the bathroom.

“Just enough time to watch a movie. You in?” He nodded at the seat next to him and smiled when she took it without any hesitation.

“What are we watching?” She asked, digging into the snack pile. 

“How about Casino Royale? Seems appropriate.”

“Ooh, good choice. As are these cookies. This is way better than my flight out, let me tell you. I had two layovers and was stuck in a middle seat on every plane.”

“That doesn't sound like a very high bar to clear,” he said. Commercial flight sounded even worse than army transport.

Darcy hummed in agreement, apparently consumed with watching Daniel Craig drown someone in a bathroom sink. They sat in silence long enough that he assumed she was either incredibly interested in the plot or didn't want to talk to him. Which is why she startled the hell out of him with her question.

“Were you just never going to ask me out?” 

He took a second to decide if there was a good answer to that question and realizing there wasn't, opted for blunt honesty. “Nope. Never.”

“But you liked me.”

“Pretty much from the second I met you, yeah.” He thought about it for a second. “Maybe even before that. I always thought you were cool for tasing Thor.”

“So then, I don't get it,” she said. “Why not ask me out? Why not even flirt with me? You acted like I didn't even exist.”

“I've had a rough couple of years.” He wanted to stop there, but knew she deserved more than that if he really wanted to give this a shot. “I got divorced, got possessed, dated women I probably shouldn't've, slept with women I _definitely_ shouldn't've. I was a mess. I still am a mess. And I knew I liked you enough not to stick you with my mess. So I stayed away and did my best not to think about you. I didn't mean to make you feel like that, but trust me, it was better than the alternative.”

“So are we going to go home and you're going to go back to avoiding me?”

A hole opened up in Clint at the thought of going back to the way things were. Leaving the room every time she entered one so he wouldn’t be tempted to tease a smile out of her, being so hyper aware of her presence he could feel it like a change in the weather. It had been bad enough before, but after the past 24 hours it sounded like absolute hell. “I couldn't keep my distance even if I wanted to.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at that. “Not gonna lie, that comes off as a little stalkery. What if I wanted you to?”

“Do you?” 

She was quiet for long enough that he almost asked again, but he didn’t want to pressure her in case that affected her answer. He hadn’t been this twisted up waiting for someone’s approval since he tried to convince Cap to let him fly straight into an alien invasion.

“No,” she finally said. She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. “But it sounds like you've been through some intense shit and I don't know that I'm ready to take all that on.”

Clint sighed and slumped a little in his seat. Of course she didn't. Most of the time he didn't want to deal with his shit either. “I don't blame you. Listen, I'm not going to avoid you like before, but I promise I won't bother you either.” 

“That's not what I meant,” she said, putting her hand on his. “Maybe we just keep things casual, you know? Or as casual as we can when we're basically contestants on superhero Love Island.” 

“Casual. I can do casual,” Clint said. 

He absolutely could not. His romantic history was littered with relationships that had burned like lighter fluid on charcoal. He'd eloped with Bobbi within weeks of meeting her, gone against direct orders from SHIELD within minutes of meeting Natasha. Even when he didn't fall hard and fast, these days he was a disaster at any type of romance. The last time he'd actually tried “casual,” he ended up in a brawl with tracksuit mobsters and accidentally cheated on a girl he didn't even realize he was dating. He wasn't kidding when he said his life was a mess. 

There were warning signs all over this thing with Darcy but now that he'd let her in, he couldn't so easily turn her away. Besides, he was pretty sure _she_ wasn't involved with shady mafioso types. The biggest danger was to his own heart and what was that worth, really?

“Cool,” she said. “Maybe you could mention it to Natasha? I think she means well, but I think it's better if we figure this out just between the two of us from here on out.”

“I'll talk to her,” he promised, then cleared his throat and turned back to the screen. “We gonna watch this movie or what?”

“Sure. Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He asked.

“I don't know, I didn't mean to bring the mood down.” She shrugged. “I also don't want you to think I don't care about whatever you're going through, it just seems safer this way. For both of us.”

“Can I still collect on our deal?” 

Darcy laughed a little shyly. “Yes.”

He leaned in for a kiss and smiled when she tried to follow his lips with hers as he pulled away. “Then I'm good."

And as she laced their fingers together and leaned her head on his shoulder, he thought, this could be enough. It would have to be.


	10. Chapter 10

Two and a half days later, and Darcy still couldn't shake the jet lag. She'd tried napping, staying up to recalibrate her internal clock, coffee, water, and even making fists with her feet in the carpet like she was John McClane. Nothing was working. It was 2am and she was somehow both wide awake and exhausted, staggering through a jog on the treadmill. Her hope was that she would eventually just wear her body down to the point where she had no choice but to sleep for a full eight hours. She and Jane didn't do much stargazing these days and tended to keep more of a 9 to 5, but she wouldn't care when Darcy made it into the lab in the morning as long as she put in a full day and Darcy really needed a decent night's sleep.

“Your gait's all wrong.”

Darcy screamed and stumbled off the end of the treadmill, landing hard on her ass on the gym floor with Clint standing over her. He pulled her up to her feet with a straight face, but his eyes told her he was definitely laughing at her.

“Fuck you, I don't run for a living,” she said, going to turn off the treadmill. 

“Jeez, someone's cranky. Sorry I scared you. You okay?”

Darcy waved a hand at him. “I'm fine. I'm just jumpy because I haven't slept right since we got back.” 

“You have been keeping some pretty weird hours,” he said, going to one of the weight benches and starting to load weights onto the barbell. 

“You're one to talk.”

Just this afternoon, she'd caught him eating breakfast all bleary-eyed and monosyllabic. At midnight the night before, she'd passed him in the halls on her way back from the lab. Now here they both were trying to work out in the middle of the night. Come to think of it, she'd really been running into him a ton since they got home. 

Apparently satisfied with the amount of weight he'd stacked on, Clint laid down on the bench and began doing presses. He was wearing an old T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, giving her a nice view of every roll and bunch of his biceps as he moved the bar up and down. She'd had a question for him before he started showing off. What was it? Oh, yeah.

“How do you even know what would be weird hours for me?”

He racked the barbell. “If I was going to avoid you, I had to know where you were.”

“So you really were just kind of stalking me, huh?”

He blew out an exasperated sigh and started another set. After his reps were completed, he rolled up to sit with his legs straddling the bench and snagged her wrist to pull her to sit between his legs.

“I was very aware of your presence, but no, I did not stalk you. You're not going to find a Darcy shrine in my room or a bunch of pictures of you pinned to my wall.”

“Is that because the shrine is somewhere else?” She teased. 

“Let's just say I prefer a more hands on method of worship,” he said, leaning in close. 

His eyes were on her lips, but he didn't close the distance between them. Heat pooled in Darcy's belly and her nipples hardened under his gaze. They'd crossed paths several times since being home, but every interaction had been brief. Friendly. Like they hadn't just spent a twelve hour flight in each other's arms. Good to know the heat between them in Monaco hadn't been a fluke.

“Oh yeah?” She ran her hand up his arm and squeezed his biceps experimentally. Hard as a fucking rock. “You up for a late night devotional?” 

“Yes ma'am, I am, but I think we'd better find somewhere more private right now unless you want JARVIS's cameras recording an accidental sex tape.”

“Why do I get the feeling it wouldn't be the first time?” Darcy asked, but she stood and pulled Clint with her out the door. 

He chased her up the stairs to the living quarters, grabbing at her ass and making her stifle a shriek. Half the team was still handling the arms deal in Ibiza, but the residents who were left wouldn't appreciate being woken up by her screaming in the halls.

They got to his door first and Clint pushed it open to reveal a slightly messy, but comfortably lived in space. There was an unmade bed in the corner, a desk littered with arrow shafts and electronic parts, and a dart board with a cluster of darts sticking out of the bullseye. Darcy made a show of looking around, even peeking inside his closet and the en suite bathroom.

“You were right, no shrine. I guess you're just a normal guy after all.”

Clint pulled a face. “Well hang on, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Oh? Are you extraordinary in some way?” Like maybe having the singular ability to make her come harder than anyone she'd ever had sex with, including herself.

He tossed his towel onto an overflowing hamper and pulled off his shirt, tossing that on top too. 

“Okay, I guess that qualifies,” she said, leering all those beautifully chiseled muscles of his.

Clint laughed and reeled her in for a kiss. “You're easy to impress.”

“You are seriously overestimating the rest of your gender if you think that,” she gestured to encompass all of him, “isn't impressive.” 

He just shook his head and kissed her again, palming her ass and grinding his hard cock into her stomach. “So the goal is wearing you out?”

“Seems like a better way to burn off the extra energy than running until I drop.”

“Could not agree more. But you know what that means, don't you?” He lifted her shirt over her head and sucked a kiss into the side of her neck. “This time you have to do all the work.”

Darcy leaned away to frown up at him. “Did I seem like a passive participant last time?”

“More like a very receptive hedonist.” 

He undid her sports bra and Darcy made sure she tracked where he flung it. Finding one that actually supported her boobs while she ran had been a pain in the ass and it cost twice as much as her regular bras. 

“You seemed okay with it at the time.” 

“Darcy. Trust me.” He rocked their hips together again. “I have no complaints about how last time went. I'm just saying that-- You know what, nevermind. I'm going to stop talking now.”

She got what he was saying. Somehow. The thing was that Darcy had never been a big fan of athletic sex, mostly because she wasn't anywhere near athletic. But she'd do whatever she needed to as long as it got rid of this jangly, live wire feeling under skin. That didn't necessarily mean they needed to pull out their copy of the Kama Sutra though. Really, she just needed to take control.

She pushed at his chest and he didn't move an inch. She pushed again. “Sit down.”

He sat, watching her with amused, curious eyes from the edge of the bed and she took off her shoes, socks, and leggings with all the grace of a baby flamingo. Finally naked, she climbed onto his lap and trailed her hands down over his chest and abs. He wasn't as cut as Steve or Thor, but she could feel the latent strength in every one of his movements and he didn't need a super soldier serum or alien genetics to get that way.

She kissed his shoulder and dragged her tongue up the column of his neck, nipped at his ear lobe, making careful note of the way it made him shiver. He turned his head and their lips met in a rough and needy kiss, Clint drawing her bottom lip into his mouth and attacking her tongue with his. His hands roamed over her naked back and down over the tops of her thighs, making her squirm in his lap. 

His thumbs pressed into the crease between hip and thigh and went no further. Deciding it was time to take matters quite literally into her own hands, Darcy lifted her hands to her breasts and pinched her nipples. She moaned unabashedly into his mouth and Clint broke the kiss to watch. Her right hand dipped down between her legs and she sank her middle finger into the wet heat of her pussy before swirling it around her clit. That felt good, but even better was the way Clint's fingers dug into her hips and the way his eyes burned on her skin as they watched her hands move on her own body.

“Kiss me,” she said when she felt like she was getting close, and he obliged, capturing her lips with a startling hunger. 

Then he bent his head and took her other nipple into his mouth and Darcy would have fallen off of his lap with how suddenly she came if not for him holding her in place. He swirled his tongue around her nipple one more time and then pressed a kiss to her cheek. She sagged in his arms and leaned her forehead on his shoulder. 

“You probably want to come at some point tonight too, huh?” She said.

“Would be nice,” he said. “Here, get up. Let me take my shoes off at least.”

She stood and waited patiently and a little awkwardly while he shed the rest of his clothes and stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head. It showed off all of his best features and she was beginning to think he did that sort of thing on purpose.

Starting down by his ankles, Darcy scratched her nails through the coarse blond hair on his legs. There was a thick scar on one of his knees and she bent to kiss it before continuing up and over his thick, powerful thighs. He shifted to make room for her to kneel between his legs and she dragged a thumb down the seam of his balls before cupping them lightly in her hand. There was another scar above his hip bone and just to the right of where his cock lay hard and flushed against his belly. She kissed that one too and smiled against his skin when he made a disgruntled noise.

She lifted her eyes and smirked at him. “Hey, you said you wanted me to do all the work. That means I get to decide how the work is done.”

“Please never listen to anything I say ever again.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes at him and licked up the length of his shaft. She took him in hand and swirled her tongue around the head, licking salty precome off the tip. He felt so good in her mouth. Big enough that it was a stretch, but not so big that he was too much to handle. Darcy genuinely loved giving head and in the right mood, could be perfectly happy doing that and nothing else. 

She took him in further until she could feel him nudging the back of her throat and he brushed his thumb over the apple of her cheek. She took a breath through her nose and sank a little deeper until he was all the way in and her nose was buried in his pubic hair. Damn, she hadn't done this in a while, and she couldn't hold it for long, but she pulled back slowly, sucking hard on the way back up. She stroked him with her hand while her mouth concentrated on the head until she could feel his thighs tensing around her. She pulled off of his cock with one last lick along his slit and returned her attention to exploring. 

She started at his scar and dropped wet, open-mouthed kisses over the ridges of his obliques until she found another one, this one a long slash. She licked the length of it and laughed when he squirmed.

“That tickles.”

She did it again and laughed harder when he wrapped his legs around her waist and used them to pull her out of reach of the scar. Her mouth was down by his cock again so she gave it a kiss so it wouldn't miss her and resumed her exploration, this time on his right side. 

“Darcy…” he warned.

“What, you got somewhere to be?”

He sat up just enough to grip the backs of her thighs and maneuver her so that she was straddling him, her pussy slippery and wet and pressed tight to the hard length of his cock. 

“I'm not going anywhere but that doesn't mean I don't want you to get a move on,” he said and rocked up into her.

One wrong move, or right one depending on how you looked at it, and he would slip right inside of her. Tempting but probably, okay _definitely_ , a bad idea.

“Please tell me you have condoms. We're not going to have to borrow from Tony again, right?”

“I have some.” He started to reach for the nightstand, put Darcy put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“Wait. Not yet.” She ground down on his cock, swiveling her hips so her clit rubbed against him. “God that feels good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked with a hoarse voice. “I changed my mind, take your time.”

“Uh huh. Make yourself useful, would you?” 

She grabbed his wrists and directed his hands to her breasts. He tweaked both her nipples in retaliation and Darcy's pussy clenched, her thighs squeezing his sides. She braced her hands on his chest and rocked against him faster while he played with her nipples, her breath coming in fast little pants.

“C'mon, Darcy. Come for me, baby,” he whispered. He cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over her lower lip and she turned her head to take it into her mouth. She whimpered around it, squeezing her eyes shut and sucking hard on his thumb as she got closer. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and that did it. She came, her legs shaking and her mouth dropping open with a breathless moan.

Before she could recover, Clint rolled her onto her back and kissed her deeply until all Darcy was aware of was lips and tongue and teeth. 

He pulled away, hovering over her. “Now?” 

She grinned up at him, feeling loose and giggly. “Yes please.”

He retrieved a condom and rolled it on, sitting back on his heels between her legs. She rubbed her calf against his hip to encourage him to hurry and he bent to kiss her knee before moving her leg up and over him.

“Turn over.”

Oh. Okay, that was fine too. She turned over on hands and knees and wiggled her hips at him when he didn't immediately touch her. “Come on already. Now who's lazy?”

“I never called you lazy. Can't a guy just enjoy the view once in a while?”

He sounded extremely fed up with her shit and Darcy grinned at him over her shoulder. He gripped her ass firmly in one hand and pressed his other hand to her pussy, his fingertips rubbing on her clit. The grin dropped off her face and her forehead dropped to the bed. 

“Cliiiint,” she whined.

“Alright, you're in charge. Show me what you got.” 

The blunt tip of his cock brushed against the entrance to her pussy and stopped there, his hands kneading her ass. Darcy pushed herself back onto him in one smooth move and they both moaned in stereo. 

She retreated until he was almost all the way out of her, then slammed back against him. _Show me what you got_ , rang in her head. She was hardly some kind of sex master. All she _had_ was a driving need to come again and a pussy that felt like every inch she took of Clint's cock was giving her another year of life. 

She pushed back onto him again and again while he seemed to stay perfectly still, the tight grip on her hips the only indication that he was at all invested in the proceedings. God, she wished he was louder during sex. Darcy couldn't seem to shut up, each thrust forcing embarrassing, high pitched moans out of her. Or at least, she was sure she'd be embarrassed later. For now, her brain was stuck in a loop of _harder, faster, oh my god_! 

Her legs started to tremble and her rhythm faltered, but Clint picked it right up and kept pounding into her as she collapsed onto her forearms and screamed her orgasm into the mattress. It seemed to go on forever and by the end, she was basically sobbing, completely overwhelmed by the force of it. But Clint wasn't done yet, so she picked herself up and weakly tried to meet his thrusts until he came too, panting heavily.

Darcy collapsed for real this time, just letting her limbs give out and flopping down onto her stomach. Yeah, she could probably sleep now. She was vaguely aware of him disposing of the condom and then intensely aware of him laying down next to her, propped up on his elbow so he could watch her.

“Spite is an excellent motivator for you.”

Darcy couldn't help or even explain the wide smile that put on her face. “You gonna add that to my file?” 

“What file?”

“The super secret spy file you've been keeping on me.” She mimed reading a printout. “Darcy Lewis. Likes: burgers and coffee. Dislikes: fascism and boats. Special notes: can be motivated by spite or with fancy chocolates.”

“Everybody likes burgers, Darcy. I don't need to write that down.”

“So there is a file?!” Loopy. She was loopy with exhaustion and it was making his long suffering expression seem extra hilarious.

He tugged a duvet that had been bunched up next to the wall over the both of them and flung an arm around her waist. “Are you gonna go to sleep or what?”

“Clint?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes?”

“The light is still on.”

“JARVIS, lights.”

The room was immediately plunged into darkness and Darcy felt her eyelids droop. Clint kissed the tip of her nose and rubbed slow circles on her back. She felt warm and boneless and safe here in this bed. But she should probably go back to her own room, right? Wash her face, get into her comfy PJs, really optimize the sleeping experience. Maybe she could just doze here for a while and slip out after Clint was asleep. Just. For a while.

* * *

It was hard to say what woke him first, the sunlight peeking through the blinds, or Darcy kissing her way down his chest. It all came together at once. It was morning, he was hard, and Darcy seemed ready and willing to do something about it. 

“What time is it?” He croaked.

The only answer he got was Darcy swallowing down his cock and fine, time was relative anyway. 

Her hair was still in its ponytail from the gym, except wildly askew from being slept on, and he gently tugged on the elastic until it spilled free around her face. She tossed her head irritably, trying to get the strands out of her face until Clint took pity on her, combing the hair back with his fingers and gathering it in his fist at the back of her head. 

No longer distracted, Darcy set about driving him wild with her mouth, massaging the sensitive spot on the underside of his head with her tongue and pumping his cock with her hand. He set his own rhythm, kneading at the base of her neck, and she practically purred around him. Her jaw had to be aching by now, he thought. He always took forever to come first thing in the morning like this. But she just kept at it, using her hand to keep up the pace when her mouth needed a break. It was too much. He wanted to touch her too. Wanted to make her feel as good as he felt. 

“C’mere. I'm gonna come.” He was still so sleepy, but he could rally for her sake.

She took her mouth off of him just long enough to answer but he missed it because he's taken his aids out after she fell asleep last night.

"I can't hear you. You gotta look up so I can see your lips."

She pulled off again and he could see her making an effort to enunciate. 

"Sorry. I said 'that's the idea, Clint.'"

Oh. _Oh_.

Fuck, that hadn't happened in forever. Seeing he understood her, she bent over him with renewed fervor and Clint stopped holding back. Let his consciousness narrow down to the wet heat of her mouth. He felt helpless under her, too much of a gentleman to thrust up into her mouth or control her movements with his hands on her head. He had no choice but to lay there and take whatever she chose to give him. 

His thighs gripping her sides and his hand tightening in her hair was the only warning he could give her before he spurted into her mouth. She swallowed it down and licked lazily at his slit, somehow knowing just when to break away before he was too sensitive to touch. She made her way up his body, making him tingle all over with every touch, and placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He turned to kiss her for real, not shying away from delving his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like him and her and it was a heady combination. 

“I have work,” she said, breaking their kiss.

“Call in sick.”

She rolled her eyes. "My boss lives next door.”

This was crazy. He'd already come, had no hope of getting off again anytime soon, and yet, the truth was, Clint just wasn't ready to let go of her. 

“You gotta shower, right?”

Darcy wrinkled her nose adorably and nodded. 

“So shower here. I'll make it worth your while.” 

Some complex calculus worked out in her head while he waited for her answer, weirdly nervous that she would say no. Finally she shrugged and rolled off the bed and up to her feet, while he stumbled after her. Fuck, did he even have any clean towels? 

Already under the spray by the time he caught up with her, he watched dumbly as Darcy ducked her head to wet her hair and face and the water poured over her shoulders and breasts. It dripped off her nipples and ran in rivulets down her body and his cock stirred in interest despite being totally spent not five minutes earlier. 

He kissed her while her eyes were still closed and she sputtered but looped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Blindly, he reached for his shower gel and squirted a bunch in his hand. He rubbed it between his hands to work up a lather before swiping his hands down her back, her butt, her arms. Wherever he could touch without taking his mouth off her.

He'd called her receptive the night before and she hadn't been able to hear the compliment in it, but he'd meant it as anything but an insult. He couldn't get over how responsive she was to every one of his touches. He dipped his fingers between the cheeks of her ass just to see how she'd react and mentally applauded himself when she pushed her ass into his hand and he could feel the vibration of a moan under the skin of her throat. 

“This was a bad idea,” Darcy said, tilting her head back against the tiled wall.

Clint's hands and heart stood still for a moment. “Why's that?”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, gesturing first to his ear and then waving her hand as if to say, "never mind." 

A bubble of irritation rose up in Clint's throat but he pushed it down. People were always doing that. Like he lost IQ points when he lost his hearing. "Hey, don't do that. I can still understand you just fine as long as we're looking at each other."

“It's nothing. I just don't want to go to work now," she said with a teasing twist of her lips.

Clint swallowed his sigh of relief and reached for another squirt of soap. “If it helps, I have stuff to do today, too.”

He put just enough space between them so he could work on her front, paying special attention to her perfect breasts, weighing their heft in his hands and flicking her nipples with his thumbs.

“Oh yeah?” She said, trailing her fingers over his chest in turn. “Busy schedule of drinking protein shakes and saving kittens from trees?” 

“I can't tell if you're fucking with me or if you actually forgot I helped save the world from an alien invasion,” he said. He pinched her nipples and her eyes slid shut in pleasure. She was right, they were never getting to work at this rate. He wanted to take her back to bed and spend all day keeping that look on her face.

“I didn't forget, but it’s hardly a full time job.”

“Just gives me more time for this,” he said and slipped his hand down to her pussy.

She gasped and braced her hands on his shoulders, widening her stance to give him better access. So fucking receptive. He bent his head to hers and she met him with deep, needy kisses. His fingers moved fast over her clit and her nails dug into his shoulders as she got closer. Her head tipped back against the tiles so he kissed her throat instead, licking and biting and sucking at her tender skin while she rocked her pussy into his hand. He didn't have to wait long before she was clutching at his shoulders, her lips forming a wordless O of pleasure.

He slowed his hand, but kept rubbing at her clit idly while she got her breath back and blinked open her eyes to smile up at him, her eyes bright and alert. She was so beautiful he had to kiss her again. His hand started to speed up again and he heard her breath catch. She put her hand over his and he stilled.

“No?” he asked curiously. Just one orgasm seemed like nothing for her.

She shook her head. “I should go. Rain check?”

“Anytime.”

They quickly rinsed off. He'd never really even soaped up, just gotten some of hers on him, but eh. Good enough. 

He found a clean towel for her in the cabinet under the sink and he brushed his teeth while she got dressed in the other room. All things considered, today was shaking up to be a pretty good day. He'd get some coffee, see if the team was back from Ibiza yet, maybe go for a run later. And then after she was done in the lab, he could ask Darcy to take a drive into town for some dinner. 

Stepping out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, he found Darcy already dressed with her shoes in hand and heading for the door.

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em, huh?”

“Shut up,” she said, laughing. “You were taking forever and I live down the hall.”

“So I don't even get a goodbye kiss? No thank you for helping you sleep?”

He crowded her up against the wall by the door and she pulled him down for a heated kiss that made him want to carry her right back to bed, but then she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Over her shoulder, Clint saw the eyes of every member of the Avengers watching them from the lounge at the end of the hall. Even Stark had flown in from Manhattan. Well, shit.

“Oh, hey guys,” he said. Was his voice kind of high? It didn't feel quite right in his throat. “We having a meeting? I'll be out in a minute.”

Then, for lack of any better options, and hoping she knew he didn't want to do this, he closed the door in Darcy's bright red, shell-shocked face.


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy glanced down the hall at all the smirking faces watching her and waved weakly. “Morning, everyone.”

Bucky made a show of looking at his watchless metal wrist. “It's already 11:30.” 

Then he flinched hard like something had bit him. Beside him, Natasha gave him a concerned look and smoothed her hand over his shoulder in a comforting manner, even as he glared at her and shrugged off her touch.

“Thanks for the update,” Darcy said. “Still technically morning, though.”

With that, she spun on her heel and power walked away from them, headed straight for the lab, where there was at least one person left in this godforsaken place that hadn't just watched her stumble out of Clint's bedroom.

If there was one thing you could always count on Jane Foster for, it was to be completely oblivious to whatever emotional turmoil the people around her were experiencing. Normally Darcy found that frustrating, but today it was calming. She didn't want to think about Clint or why it was so embarrassing to be caught by everyone all at once. It simply was. It had happened. And now work was happening and Darcy was doing that. The end.

Except, of course that wasn't the way her brain worked. Would everyone assume they were together? Like _together_ together? Would they be disappointed when they found out they weren't? Was _she_ disappointed they weren't? Of course not. She had been the one to suggest they keep things casual. And it wasn't like she had ever expected or even wanted to keep it a secret. She just knew the way everyone gossiped about the love quadrangle Natasha, Steve, Sam, and Bucky had going on and she didn't want that kind of attention. 

Apparently, Darcy was in a big enough funk for even Jane to notice, though, because around the time Darcy would normally force a protein bar on her, Jane rolled away from her computer to come stare at Darcy with her chin propped on her hand. Darcy ignored her.

“What's with you today?” Jane asked. 

“What's with today, today?” Darcy muttered under her breath. 

“What?”

Darcy blew out a sigh. Damn, wasted her favorite Empire Records quote on someone who didn't even recognize it. “Nothing. I'm fine.”

“You're being really quiet and it's freaking me out. I need your nonstop chatter to work. Are you still jet lagged?” Jane asked.

“Well you're being really nosy and it's freaking _me_ out.”

“Darcy,” Jane chided. 

_Fine_ , Darcy thought. Might as well tell her before someone else did. “I'm not jet lagged. I finally got some sleep last night and I feel great. But the reason I slept so great is because I got laid. And this morning, my strut of pride turned into the proverbial walk of shame about a foot from his door because literally everyone else we know was right outside and watched me leave.”

“Ohhh noooo,” Jane said, her hand over her mouth. 

“Oh yes,” Darcy said. 

At least Jane had confirmed that her embarrassment wasn't unfounded. She'd known last night that she should have gone back to her own room. She'd wrestled with the decision to stick around for a shower, too. Maybe this was the universe's karmic retribution for being so damn greedy for Clint's hands on her body.

“Well who was it?” Jane asked.

“I just told you. Everyone!”

“No, who did you sleep with?”

“Oh. Clint.” Darcy paused and then decided to share the rest. “And it wasn't the first time.”

“Ooh, nice choice,” Jane said. “You had sex with him in Monaco, didn't you? I thought you were in a good mood when you got home.”

“It was on the plane, actually, and it was amazing.”

“Darcy!” Jane sat back in her chair, scandalized.

“What? It's not like we did it standing up in an airplane bathroom while a line of people waited on us. It was one of Tony's jets. There was a bed and mood lighting and afterward we watched a movie. It was all extremely normal.” Except for the part for how incredibly great it had felt.

“So you're just upset because people found out? Maybe they didn't even notice.”

“Oh, they noticed.”

“Well maybe they just thought you guys were hanging out. Not everyone's mind immediately jumps to sex when they see two people together.”

“Well they got a pretty good view of him kissing me goodbye with only a towel on, so I don't know what else they would think.” Darcy finally gave up on pretending to work and sat back with her arms crossed over her chest. “Look, it's fine. People were always going to find out. Natasha already knew and I wasn't trying to hide it or anything.”

“Then what's your problem?”

“I don't know! I guess I didn't love the way he just closed the door in my face.”

“He did what?!” 

Darcy mentally replayed the moment he noticed the other Avengers in the lounge and the way his face had frozen in horror before he tried to cover it up with nonchalance. She heaved a sigh.

“I think he was just embarrassed too.” She shrugged. “Seriously, it's fine. Sorry I've been weird.”

“Okay. But if he doesn't treat you right, I'm going to sneak into his room and snap all his arrows.”

“I know you would,” Darcy said, patting Jane's hand. “But I promise, it's not a big deal. It's just a casual hook up. He's hot, I'm hot. We're very hot together. That's about the extent of it.”

Jane gave her a doubtful look, then shrugged and scooted back to her desk. It had been surprisingly nice of Jane to check on her. Darcy would give her another hour of work before she badgered her into eating something.

* * *

Checking that the hallway was clear of his nosy teammates, Clint knocked on Darcy's door later that night. He was pretty sure she would be back from the lab by now. The door opened and then Darcy was frowning up at him from behind her glasses, swaddled in an enormous sweater like usual. Damn, he'd liked those yoga pants. 

“Can I come in?” He asked when she didn't seem likely to offer. “I have something to show you.”

He held up the laptop he'd brought with him and she frowned at that too before finally stepping aside. She closed the door after him and leaned against it, arms crossed like a shield in front of her. 

“Why do I get the feeling I did something to piss you off?” he asked. 

“You didn't. I'm just not in a great mood.” She unfolded her arms and shook out her hands. “What's on the laptop?”

“Proof of how indispensable you were in Monaco.” He pulled out her desk chair and set the laptop on her empty desktop. “Here, sit.”

Throwing him a wary look, she sat on the edge of the chair and waited while he opened the laptop to the video that was cued up and ready to play. He tapped on the track pad and an infrared video feed showed a squat warehouse with two armed guards out front. A shadow passed over them, but they didn't notice, their attention on the box truck that had just pulled up to the large rolling door. The door and the back of the truck were both opened and they watched as two more men began loading crates onto the truck.

“We knew where all of Volta's land holdings were, but his movements were too erratic to predict his next move and there aren't enough of us on the team to surveil every one of his properties until we got a hit. Thanks to you, we were able to narrow down the possibilities to this one warehouse and--” 

They watched as Captain America's shield ricocheted off the side of the truck and knocked down both the guards. Next, Falcon dropped down from where he had been waiting on the roof and took the two loaders by surprise with twin kicks to their chests. A couple more men with guns ran into the frame and were steps away from where Sam was occupied with incapacitating the loaders when they were stopped in their tracks with a couple of well-aimed shots to the chest from somewhere off-screen. Darcy flinched and looked away. There was more to the fight, including Steve doing a cool somersault kick that was always fun to watch, but Darcy didn’t seem to be enjoying the show. 

“Well, that was pretty much it,” he said and closed the laptop, leaning on the edge of the desk to face her. “We were able to reclaim 500 Stark Industries weapons and 250,000 rounds of ammunition that without your help, would have made it into the hands of Syrian soldiers.”

“Am I even allowed to see that?” She asked. “Pretty sure my non-disclosure agreement doesn’t cover watching footage of Bucky Barnes kill hired goons.”

“Whoa, hey. Those guys aren’t dead. They were wearing vests and other than a few bruises from getting kicked in the face by Captain America, I think they’ll be fine.” Clint nudged her calf with his foot, trying to get her to look at him and smiled when she finally did. “Seriously, thank you for your help out there. Steve wanted to thank you himself, but after this morning, he thought I'd better be the one to talk to you.”

Darcy put her hands to her face and groaned into them.

“You alright there?” He asked, peeling one hand away to try and make eye contact.

“I just still can't believe this morning even happened. I keep thinking I'm over it and I'm not embarrassed anymore and then something reminds me and ugh! This is so stupid. I am a grown woman. They probably don't even care what we were up to. They don't, right? Did they say anything to you?” She slashed her hand through the air. “No, don't answer that.”

The blush on her cheeks was really cute, but he felt bad that she had been obsessing over this all day. The only one who had even said anything had been Cap when they were talking about the video and even then it had just been to say that he was glad Clint was finally doing something about his crush.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I caught Natasha and Sam making out in the kitchen like an hour ago?” he asked. He still had her hand in his and he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Maybe.”

“I did. Going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. No one cares, I promise. They're all too wrapped up in their own drama.” 

She withdrew her hand from his and stuffed them both between her knees. “Still. I think we should probably try to fly under the radar with this. Cool it with the sleepovers, you know?”

He did know, and he hated it, but she didn't need to know that. “Whatever you want.” 

She slumped back in her chair and Clint noticed it was just a simple ladderback. He'd had one in his room just like it until he replaced it with something he could actually sit in for more than five minutes. He looked around and realized all of the furniture was original to the room. There weren't any clothes on the floor or pictures on the walls. The only sign of Darcy's presence at all was her open laptop on the neatly made bed. 

“I thought you lived here. Where's all your stuff?”

Darcy shrugged. “I have my laptop, my phone, and my clothes. I don't need much else. Besides, I've been squatting in pre-furnished spaces for the last ten years. There hasn't been much opportunity to decorate.”

“So you're just hanging out until it's time for your next move,” Clint said.

“Pretty much, yeah. Jane keeps moving us around from site to site and it makes it easier to pack if I can just throw everything in one suitcase.”

It was a lifestyle that Clint was intimately familiar with. All of his belongings had fit in a single duffle bag for most of his life, and he understood her reluctance to make some kind of physical mark on the space she was living in. He understood it, but he didn't like it. 

“You've been here over a year. You think you're moving on anytime soon?”

“We go where the funding is. Tony awarded us a three year grant, as long as we work out of this facility. I think he thinks Jane can keep Thor around.”

“You don't?” That had kinda been his assumption too. If they were all wrong and Thor could bail at any moment, it would be nice to know about it.

Darcy tilted her head while she thought about that. “I think Jane and his whole Hero of Midgard shtick are just excuses so he can spend time away from Asgard. They wanted to crown him king and he wasn't ready for that. He's basically on Earth for Spring Break. At some point he's gonna realize he has responsibilities back home and hitch a rainbow bridge on out of here. Maybe he'll take Jane with him, maybe not. It's hard to guess since he measures time in centuries. They seem crazy in love, but maybe she's just a novelty to him.” 

“Not much of a romantic, are you?” Clint asked. 

“I like romance just fine. They seem happy for now, so I'm happy for them.” She shrugged. “I just think it's naive to assume Asgardians think about anything exactly the way we do.”

No, not in his experience they didn't. Loki's grin, vicious and calculating while they planned the Berlin heist, filled his vision. The whispers of the tesseract telling him who he needed to kill echoed through his head and his pulse jack-rabbited in his throat. It was only a memory. He was in control. He ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and the image of Loki cleared.

He should have seen this coming, should have steered the conversation away from Asgard, but he liked listening to her talk too much. He blinked and focused on Darcy's face. She looked worried and wary, like she wanted to run. Aw, shit. This was exactly the sort of shit she said she didn't want to deal with. 

“Sorry. I'm gonna go.”

“Wait, Clint,” she said, reaching for his hand.

He evaded her touch and was halfway to the door before he realized he left his laptop full of top secret intel and porn sitting on her desk. He turned to find her holding it out for him, but she pulled it back once he got closer.

“I need that.”

“Yeah, well I need a hug,” she said, her lower lip pushed out for effect.

Fuck, those puppy dog eyes she was giving him were cute and she knew it. Moving slowly, he took the laptop from her and set it down, then wrapped his arms around her. Her arms came around his waist and he buried his nose in her hair. She smelled fruity and clean, like she must have taken another, much more efficient shower sometime today.

He broke their hug after one last squeeze and stepped out of arm's reach before he was tempted to hold her again. 

“Thanks, I really needed that,” she said.

“Anytime,” he promised. He wasn't entirely convinced that hadn't been for his benefit, but it had helped, so he wasn't going to complain. 

Remembering to grab the damn laptop this time, he left, heading for his own room where he could try to put his head on straight and hopefully dream of better things than Loki's cruel smile. It was wishful thinking, but maybe he'd dream of Darcy instead.


	12. Chapter 12

Breakfast and lunch were usually fend for yourself affairs at the Avengers facility, but Wanda and Vision had felt like cooking for the crowd that morning. So instead of her usual cereal and industrial strength coffee Darcy had an omelette with an extra large side of PDA. 

Those two were always all over each other. Why had she thought it would be a good idea to eat at the kitchen counter again? Oh right, because at least there she could avoid the simmering stew of sexual tension over at the dinner table. 

On the surface it sounded like Bucky and Sam were having a quiet argument over the best way to butter toast. More of the usual bickering they always did. Except to Darcy’s ears, every word out of their mouths sounded like a euphemism for sex.

“It’s excessive. You leave all of that on there and your whole mouth is gonna be coated in it,” Sam was saying.

“That’s the point. I _like_ a lot of butter. Do it your way and the toast is too dry. It scrapes up your mouth.”

Sam gave a disgusted grunt. “Steve, back me up here. You like the way I butter toast, don’t you?”

“Honestly guys, I like it either way. As long as I get the toast it really doesn’t matter.”

Darcy stared hard down at her plate, her eyes wide in disbelief. How was no one else hearing that? Glancing across the counter, she saw Vision delicately feed a piece of diced pepper to Wanda while she fondled the handle of her spatula. Nothing new there. They couldn’t over-analyze their teammates’ conversation for subtext when they were always so busy eyefucking each other.

Down at the other end of the counter, Bruce was working on a crossword on his tablet, his omelette growing cold at his elbow. He rolled the tip of his stylus over his bottom lip while he thought about the next clue and Darcy sucked in a breath. Okay, so it was possible she just had sex on the brain if she was even getting sexy vibes from Dr. Emotional Control over there. She seriously doubted he was thinking about sucking dick right now, even if it looked that way to her.

It was like her libido had been turned up to eleven just because she’d finally gotten a little action. Although in all fairness, she’d had more orgasms in the past handful of days than she had in the whole month before. She’d gotten a super-sized dose of dopamine and now she was craving more. The worst part was she knew exactly where to get it, just not when it was going to happen again. The sense memories of Clint’s hands on her body and the way he moved in her hit her like a wave and she pressed her thighs together tightly and allowed herself just a moment of zoning out so she could really appreciate the thought. 

Then Darcy blinked and snapped herself out of it. She couldn’t just spend all day thinking about the next time she could get Clint in bed. She ate faster, both so she could get away to the totally sexless, boring, nothingness of the lab and as a nice perk, also so she could avoid dish duty. 

Just as she was finishing up, Natasha came into the kitchen and snagged an apple out of the bowl on the counter next to Darcy. “Have you seen Clint?”

Darcy was instantly filled with totally irrational irritation. Natasha could have asked any of the other half dozen people in the room, but nope. Darcy was a known fucker-of-Clint, so she must know where he was. She knew she was being irrational, but that wasn’t enough to make her stop feeling annoyed.

“Not today.” 

Natasha gave her a confused frown. “Really?”

“Really.” She was not her fuckbuddy’s keeper. Sure, they lived together, but only in the sense that they all lived together. She hadn’t like, moved into his bed permanently.

Natasha cocked her head and hummed thoughtfully, then left without another word. 

Darcy polished off the last of her omelette and left her plate in the sink for whichever poor schlub would be the last one to finish eating. She had just set it down when her phone went crazy with text alerts. They were all from Vanessa. The first was a link to a specific post on her blog and then in her usual rapidfire delivery:

**ur live girl**

**don't refresh a ton checking comments**

**it messes with the page hit counts**

**thx again**

**ur a lifesaver**

Darcy clicked the link, totally mystified at what her friend was talking about and the second it loaded, swore loudly. There on Vanessa's very popular blog was a picture of Darcy smiling and holding an ice cream cone, the beautiful blue waters of the Mediterranean as her backdrop. 

With all of the excitement of the last few days, Darcy had completely forgotten about her guest stint on Vanessa's blog. She had emailed Vanessa her rough draft and a handful of pictures and left the rest to her before Clint had ever approached her at the pool. Vanessa had given her post the astoundingly boring title of _My Monte Carlo Mini-Vacay_. 

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked.

"Umm." Darcy scrolled to the bottom of the page, checking for what she already knew would be there. Her full name as the author credit. "No. Not really. I mean, maybe it's okay? I never really leave this place and they'd have to go through all of you and by now they know the Avengers are the ones who took their guns anyway. It's probably fine."

"Slow down, Darcy," Steve said. He stood and circled around the kitchen island. "Why would someone be coming after you?"

"My friend. She's like, internet famous. And did Clint tell you about Sofia?" Darcy's brain finally caught up to her runaway heartbeat and she sternly told herself to cut it out with the useless panic. She swallowed and continued in a calmer voice. 

"Sofia told me she'd keep quiet about us disabling the stabilizer, but I'm sure Volta has put together the two obnoxious Americans asking too many questions and his stolen guns by now."

"And she'd be the first one he'd go to for answers," Steve said. 

"Yeah, I mean, I would. And I doubt her gratitude extends to enduring whatever he’s going to do to get the truth out of her."

"But she didn't know your real name."

"She didn't then, but now she will, all because I tried out a side gig as a travel writer." Darcy held out her phone for everyone in the room to see since they were now all paying close attention. 

Wanda leaned in to scroll back up to the top of the page. "It's a great picture of you."

"Thanks," Darcy said, huffing out a laugh.

Reaching around Wanda, Vision briefly closed his hand over the phone, his eyes flaring yellow for just a second before settling back into his humanly disguised blue. "I've shut down your friend's site temporarily. You could ask her to delete the post. There is of course still a possibility this Sofia has already seen it."

The screen on her phone now showed a 404 error. Oh God, Vanessa was going to kill her. Not only was Darcy about to ask her to lose money by taking the post down, she'd crashed her whole damn site.

"You can fix that, right?" she asked.

Vision looked vaguely offended. "Of course."

"Keep it down for now while we talk this out, but I'm not sure it should be deleted for good," Steve said. He was leaning back against the counter now, looking thoughtful.

"Steve, you can't be serious," Bruce said. 

"What can't he be serious about?" Darcy asked. 

"He wants to use you as bait," Bucky said, crunching down on a thickly buttered piece of toast. 

" _Steve_ ," Darcy said. When had these guys decided to turn her into their newest recruit? "You cannot be serious!"

Of course, that had been the wrong tone to take with Captain I'm In Charge And I Always Have The Best Ideas. 

She could tell he tried for soothing but he ended up somewhere just shy of commanding. "It'll most likely come to nothing, but if it works, we'll have a chance to put away a few more of Volta's crew. Like you said, you almost never leave, but if you need to go to the store or something, one of us can be with you at all times. You’ll never really be in any danger."

"I seriously don't even get a choice in whether or not I want to participate?" Darcy asked. At least Natasha had tried to convince her. Steve was steamrollering right over her objections.

"I'm sorry, Darcy but I promise you, you'll come to no harm. This is a good opportunity and we have to take it."

Looking around the room, everyone looked grim. Sam was sharing a complicated look with Bucky, and Wanda and Bruce wouldn't meet her eyes, but no one objected any further to Steve's plan.

"This blows," Darcy said. Then she held her phone out to Vision. "Bring my friend's site back before she has a heart attack."

He closed his hand on it one more time and when he took his hand away, her stupid ice cream-eating face was staring up at her. Darcy shoved the phone in her pocket and made to leave when Steve called after her.

"Text me the link to that so I can brief the rest of the team."

Her hand curled into a fist at her side. She was not going to flip off Captain America. This particular decision of his was pissing her off, but normally she liked the guy. Ooh, but she really wanted to.

Instead, she gave him a crappy little salute oozing with disrespect and walked away. She’d go along with it for now, but that wouldn’t stop her from complaining loudly to everyone she knew in the meantime.

***

Around 1am, Clint had realized sleep just wasn’t happening that night. He’d gone for a run instead, scaring the shit out of a couple of racoons and doing absolutely nothing for his jittery, too fast heartbeat. 

Then he’d tried working on his new shock net arrow prototype. That hadn’t done much more than singe his fingers and give him too much time to think. 

By dawn, he’d wandered down to the range to shoot arrow after arrow into the heart of the farthest target. It was meditative, nothing more than the draw and release of the bow, the inhale and exhale of his breath. His mind had gone mostly quiet by the time Natasha found him, creeping into the corners of his vision without a sound.

Inhale. Draw. Exhale. Loose.

“Why didn’t Darcy know where you were?”

The arrow went wide, bouncing off the bullet trap on the far end of the range. Glaring at the traitorous arrow, Clint reached for another and found his quiver empty. 

"She said she hadn't seen you today."

"She hasn't." Clint set his bow down and hopped the divider to walk down range and retrieve his arrows from the target.

"But you saw her last night."

"Showed her the video." Clint shrugged and dipped down to grab the lone arrow on the ground. "Freaked her out. Left."

"What'd you do?"

"Nothing. And she didn't do anything either, so don't go there." Clint put the arrows safely back in their quiver and frowned at his bow. The target practice wasn't enough of a distraction anymore. "You up for tag?"

Natasha smiled, slow and small. "Always."

The tag course was technically the "urban maneuvering skills course” they had set up in one corner of the back hangar. It featured obstacles that looked like nothing you’d find in a real urban setting, but provided a close enough analog that they could practice their moves. Mostly they just used it for grown-up tag. 

Rules were that only hand-to-torso hits were considered a tag and each new chaser was frozen for ten seconds after being tagged before they could begin chasing. Sometimes they did a full team free for all, but one on one bouts like this were more common.

“One minute rounds?” Natasha called out from the opposite end of the course. Her hand was hovering over the timer they had set up at the start point.

“Nah, let’s just go ‘til we’re tired.” Clint rolled his head from side to side, and swung his arms around, trying to loosen up. God, he was already so tired but nothing less than total exhaustion would work at this point.

Natasha regarded him curiously, but drew her hand back and started counting down from ten. She always wanted to be “it” first. “...3, 2, 1. Ready or not, here I come.”

“That hasn’t stopped being creepy,” Clint said. He had to wait until she was closer before he could pick a direction to run in. 

“Good.” She was already running straight for him, easily vaulting over low walls and sliding under supports.

Seeing an opening, Clint dashed to the right, hopping up a series of narrow platforms like they were a set of stairs until he could launch himself at the 8-foot-tall, 10-foot-long cinder block wall that ran through the middle of the course. Natasha swerved to meet him and grabbed onto his ankle just as he was pulling himself on top of the wall. He kicked at her hand with his other foot and hauled himself up on top of the wall, but she only climbed higher up his leg, bracing her feet on the wall to pull him down.

Now sitting astride the wall, Clint reached down and pried her fingers off his leg, but that just brought his upper body closer to her. The second he was in range, she kicked off the wall, giving herself just enough upward momentum to slap him in his side. She landed back on the ground in a crouch.

"So I've been thinking of ways you could make things up to Darcy," she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. 

"Don't you want to maybe run? You only have ten seconds."

Unconcerned, Natasha shrugged and started walking backwards, avoiding the struts of an uplifted platform without looking. "Her favorite band's playing in the city next Friday."

"8… 7…"

"You guys could spend the weekend at that tenement building of yours." 

Clint stood on top of the wall and paced along the length of it, tracking Natasha's movements. She wasn't going far since she always liked starting in the center when she was the evader. She was fast, so she didn't worry about how close the chaser was and she liked having more options of where to run. Knowing all this, Clint used his last few seconds to plot his run, not really paying attention to what she was saying.

"She'd have fun in Brooklyn. You could take her to that Italian place with the big patio."

"Saraghina."

"Yeah."

"No. Time's up."

Clint jumped off the wall, landing with a roll to cushion the fall and was up and running the second he got his feet under him again. His eyes were only off her for a split second, but Natasha used that time to dart past him, down the length of the wall and then a sharp turn around the end of it. 

Since he was closer to the opposite end, he went that way, and came around the other side, but there was no Natasha to be found, just empty obstacles. Cursing under his breath, he turned back the way he came, and just as he rounded the corner, Natasha's hand flew out of nowhere and smacked him in the nose. Not hard enough to cause any damage, but enough to stop him in his tracks and make his eyes water.

"Ow! Was that really necessary?"

"Yes!" 

Her voice was coming from a distance and after blinking a few times, the red and black blob he was tracking resolved into Natasha, three platforms between them. He could go over them no problem, but right around the time he leapt from the second one to the third one, she’d dodge and he’d try to redirect in mid-air and fall on his ass. 

Her eyes slid to her left, checking the possible pathways. Too obvious. That meant she’d go right. Unless she wanted him to think she’d go right. 

Ah, screw it. He took a running leap for the first platform, then the second. Natasha rushed forward, straight for him and slid under the third platform and then the second. Clint, already leaning towards the third, watched as she passed right under his feet and windmilled his arms, sprung up and back into a flip. He landed on his knees, right on top of her. He reached down and flicked her in the nose as payback for her earlier sucker punch, then tagged her in the side. Feeling every one of the hours he didn’t sleep, Clint flopped on his back next to her. 

"What is it you think I need to make up to Darcy again?" he asked. The whole point of playing tag was to stop thinking but he couldn’t stop wondering what Natasha thought he’d done that rated a weekend away in the city. Not that it’d be much of a hardship. He’d do it in a heartbeat if he thought Darcy’d actually be interested. Unfortunately Natasha’s plans sounded way too couple-y for the kind of arrangement he and Darcy had. 

Rubbing at her ribs, Natasha made an annoyed tsking sound. "You embarrassed her."

"She was embarrassed you guys were out there, but it's not like I called the meeting. How the hell am I at fault?" 

"You practically slammed the door in her face." 

"I had to get dressed. We'd already said goodbye. What else was I gonna do?" He’d been over it a million times in his head already. There really was no better option with everyone watching like that. 

"Not that." She flung out a hand and tapped him in the ribs. “Tag, you’re it.”

“We’re on time out, it doesn’t count. And thanks. Real helpful, Nat.”

“I just think if you want this relationship to work, might as well get comfortable with apologizing early and often.”

“Yeah well, it’s not.” Clint waved vaguely. “One of those. She doesn’t want that.”

Natasha sat up, all the better to stare down at him in surprise. “She said that?”

“Explicitly,” Clint said, keeping his eyes on the overhead lights. “She also said she wants you to butt out of our not-a-relationship, so thanks for the advice, but I’m good.” 

“I was just trying to help,” Natasha said, sounding hurt.

“I know. And she knows too, but stop it.” 

There was a long pause, but then she said, “Fine. You’re both idiots, but fine.”

Clint sighed and pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to help her up. “C’mon. One more and then I need a nap.”


	13. Chapter 13

Waking up from his nap felt like dragging himself back from the dead but Clint made himself get up through sheer force of will. He stumbled out into the hall just in time to run into Banner and Thor on their way into the lounge. The rest of the team was already assembled, Steve standing in front of the enormous TV, where a surveillance photo of Benicio Volta on his yacht was displayed.

“How come I never get the meeting memos anymore?” Clint asked. He climbed over the back of the sofa and perched on the back of it between where Wanda and Natasha were sitting.

“I texted you,” Steve said. “You never check your phone.”

Clint shrugged because, yeah. He gestured at the TV. “What’s up with him? I thought we were done with this guy.”

“We could have been,” Banner said, sounding grumpy.

“Should have been,” Wanda added and she didn't look any happier.

Steve glared at both of them. “But we’re not. This came in from one of our sources earlier today.” He pressed a button on the TV remote and audio of Volta yelling in Italian played. 

Clint couldn’t understand all of it, but he got enough of a gist to know that Volta was reacting to finding out his shipment had been stolen and he knew who was behind it. Lots of creative swears about Americans in general and the Avengers specifically.

“I don’t know what he's saying, but he doesn’t sound happy,” Wanda said.

“He’s not,” Natasha and Clint said together.

“I don’t see the problem,” Thor said. “If it's revenge he wants, I will gladly offer him the opportunity to try for it. I’ll meet him and anyone he brings with him at the front gate.”

“The problem isn’t Volta coming for one of us. I think we can all agree he and his entire organization is small potatoes compared to some of our other missions. We wouldn’t even have gone after him if he didn’t get his hands on Stark weapons.” Steve clicked the remote again and the screen switched to a screenshot of a webpage featuring a picture of Darcy. “The problem is our resident civilians.”

While Thor loudly objected to the idea that he couldn’t protect Jane, Clint quickly read what was on the screen. It was a just a blog post about Darcy’s trip to Monaco, specifically her comped stay in the resort. He didn’t really get what the big deal was. Her real name was on it, so he should probably talk to her about doing a better job hiding her identity online, especially since she’d already— 

Too slowly, Clint’s groggy brain caught on to the real problem. She’d already been recognized online and by someone who had Volta’s ear.

“I didn’t get to read it before,” Wanda said in a quiet aside to Vision. “She’s funny.”

Clint leaned around her and addressed Vision. “You nuked this already, right? How long was it up?”

“Regrettably, it is still accessible,” Vision said. He glanced meaningfully at Steve, still standing at the front of the room.

“Why is it still up, Steve?” Natasha said, deceptively calm. That tone of voice wasn’t going to fool anyone in this room, though.

“She’s bait,” Sam said impatiently. “Steve wants to draw some of Volta's guys out using Darcy and presumably get them charged with attempted kidnapping since Interpol refuses to go after him and he doesn’t hang out in any one country long enough to interest local police. There, now you’re caught up.”

“You missed the part where Darcy wasn’t consulted about this plan,” Banner said.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. “Did I also miss the part where we were all suddenly cool with letting Volta get away with human trafficking? And murder? Not to mention the extortion, his support of fascist government leaders—”

“The beheadings in Barcelona, that car bomb last month in Marseille,” Barnes added.

“We get it, we’ve all read his file,” Clint said, cutting them off. “Still not clear why you decided my— Why Darcy has to be involved. Any one of us could have been part of the set-up if you were still gunning for this guy.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Steve said, spreading his hands in supplication. “The opportunity presented itself and it felt like a waste to let it pass us by. It might not even come to anything. I know a lot of you don’t agree with this decision, so I’m not going to push for an incident. I just wanted everyone briefed so that if Darcy feels like going somewhere, we’d all have her back.”

Clint barked out a hollow laugh. "You won’t push for it, you’re just keeping her on house arrest until she can’t stand it anymore and goes along with your stupid, useless plan.”

“I’m sorry, would you _rather_ I plan some sting operation with your girlfriend at the center of it?” Steve asked, hands on his hips in what Clint liked to think of as his disappointed dad pose.

“She’s not—” Before Clint could say what she wasn’t—his girlfriend, an idiot, a caged bird—Darcy herself piped up from behind him. 

“I have a high school reunion in a couple of weeks. Nice and public, good reason to bring a date for protection, and Vanessa will be there, so it'll be all over social media. Will that work?” She was leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway that led to their rooms and looked like she'd heard the whole argument. 

Steve looked to Natasha, who took all of a second to think it over before she offered him a half shrug and a nod. Clint put the full force of his glare on her instead and she turned on her apologetic doe eyes, like that would work on him. 

"Look, I hate this too," she said, "but if we can entice Volta himself to make a move, it might be worth it. Taking out a couple of his lackies _is_ useless. He can always hire more muscle. Take out Volta and the whole organization crumbles."

Clint turned back to Darcy. "You're really okay with this?"

"Yes." She hesitated and licked her lips. "Don't get me wrong, it's still a terrible idea and I want a raise like immediately, but I hate having this threat hanging over my head, so let’s just get it over with. Sending assholes to jail is cool too, I guess." 

Thor stood and bowed to her, his hand on his chest. "Darcy, I will strike down anyone who attempts to harm you. You are as brave as any Valkyrie for attempting this."

"Thanks, big guy," she said with a little smile. Then it twisted into something more bitter and she pushed off the wall. "Well, let me know if you guys need me to do anything beyond being a walking, talking target."

She threw them all a little wave and turned away, then snapped her fingers and spun back around. "I do have one condition."

"Shoot," Steve said.

"No boats this time. I'm serious," she pointed at Natasha, "promise me I won't have to step foot on a single boat for any reason."

Natasha gave her a solemn nod. "I promise."

"Good. You guys have fun planning my kidnapping, then." She wiggled her fingers at them again and headed down the hall.

"Attempted!" Steve shouted after her. Then he turned to Clint. "She's not going to get kidnapped, I swear."

"You better hope not, because if _anything_ happens to her, you won't see me coming."

Steve met his stare with an equally steely glint in his eye, then he nodded stiffly and looked around the room. "Alright, how do we make sure Volta shows up and doesn’t just send a messenger?."

Clint looked back over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on the empty hallway. The need to chase after Darcy and make absolutely sure she knew how he felt about this harebrained scheme was overwhelming. That urge to be near her was what got them in this mess though. 

If he'd done a better job smothering his crush on her, Natasha never would have involved her in the Monaco op, Darcy never would have been recognized, and Steve never would have had the chance to dangle her in front of Volta's nose like this. 

He couldn't do anything about that now of course. The horse had already bolted and there was no use standing around holding the barn door. The only way out of this now was through


	14. Chapter 14

Once Darcy committed to her role as bait, everything went back to normal pretty quickly. Natasha had come down to the lab for a short conversation about logistics and asked her to make her Instagram public, and then… nothing happened. No mobsters stormed the compound, no new accounts followed her, and no one left any suspicious comments on Vanessa’s blog even though Darcy had read every one of them looking for hidden meanings. After about a week, it was like Monaco never even happened.

In fact, things were so normal, Darcy worried that _everything_ was going to go back to the way it had been before Monaco. She saw Clint next to never and when she did see him, he was always busy with something. Which should have been fine since she herself was busy with helping Jane with her research on the Convergence. They were busy adults with full lives outside of each other and besides, they were keeping this casual.

Then one night, the Avengers Assemble alarm sounded in the wee hours of the morning, followed shortly by the thunderous sound of several heavy-booted people running past her door. Darcy stared up at the ceiling in the dark with her hands over her ears and waited for blaring alarm to turn off. It wasn't turning off. Who the fuck hadn't woken up yet?

Trudging over to the door, she poked her head out into the empty hall just in time for the cacophony to turn into ringing silence. Four doors down, Clint stumbled out of his room, still zipping up his pants. Huh, how did he wake up for the alarm if he went to bed without his hearing aids? Maybe one of the others had to wake him and that was why he was the last out. Catching sight of her, Clint nodded once before he turned in the opposite direction and jogged off toward the hangar, disappearing around a corner.

Well, alright then. He still acknowledged her existence at least. She was about to close the door and head back to bed when Clint came barreling back around the corner and headed straight for her. He slid to a stop right in front of her and cradled her face in his hands.

“Kiss for good luck?” he asked.

Already pushing up onto her toes, Darcy nodded. He claimed her mouth in a searing kiss and she opened up beneath him, wanting him deeper. Oh no, this was an extremely inconvenient time to get this turned on. She blamed the past week's lack of contact and the fact that he had on his Hawkeye gear. He kissed her one last time on her lips and then on her forehead as she rocked back onto her heels.

“Go on, come back in one piece and I'll make it worth your while,” she said, pushing on his chest.

“Yes, ma'am,” Clint said. His eyes swept over her face with quiet intensity and then he was gone. Off to save the day or whatever.

The clock on her nightstand said it was a little after 4. Maybe she should just get up for the day. She doubted she'd be able to fall back asleep after that kiss anyway. Her decision was made when Jane came out of the room she shared with Thor across the hall, yawning and putting her hair into a ponytail.

“Coffee,” she mumbled in Darcy's direction.

“Yes, please,” Darcy said, trailing after her. “JARVIS, who’s on babysitting duty today? Ask them if they want coffee.”

“Ms. Maximoff has volunteered to remain at the compound today. She says that while she is of course available for any emergencies, she requests that they be put off until after 8am.”

Darcy gave a thumbs up in the vague direction of the ceiling. “Got it, we'll do our best.”

Outside, the sound of a quinjet taking off rattled the windows. Darcy bypassed the fancy espresso machine for the unassuming Mr. Coffee they all used instead. She knew how to use the big one, but that wasn't gonna happen this early in the morning.

“Cereal?” Jane asked.

“Uh huh.”

They worked on getting a passable breakfast together and then sat next to each other at the breakfast bar munching and slurping in meditative silence while their brains loaded.

It was hard on Jane, waiting around while Thor did his hero of men shtick. She'd been much worse off when she was still waiting for him to return from Asgard of course, but days like this were always rough. She'd try to throw herself into work, but wouldn't be able to keep her attention on anything serious and pretty soon, Darcy would find her parked in front of a TV with CNN blaring while she obsessively scrolled through Twitter.

There wasn't much Darcy could do to snap her out of it. She'd tried in their early days at the compound, but after the fifth or so time, she'd settled on the strategy of just keeping Jane fed and watered while she watched something soothing on her laptop. It wasn't that Darcy wasn't curious how things played out, but she knew there was nothing she could do from where she was and the Avengers were all extremely competent at kicking ass. 

Darcy rinsed her cereal bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher before refilling her mug. “I'm gonna shower.”

Jane nodded absently, staring at nothing. Yeah, they wouldn't be getting anything done today. A few years ago, Darcy would have done a happy dance over a full day of getting paid to do nothing. Now she had vacation days she didn't use and concern for her friend who got emotionally torn apart once every two to three weeks. That couldn't be healthy.

If Darcy wasn't aggressively sinking every spare cent of her paycheck into her student loans, she'd be putting a hard press on Jane to take a break from Thor and move back to London. Couldn't beat the free rent and Stark funding here at the Avengers facility, though. One more year and she'd be totally debt-free. 

Darcy shoved her face into the shower spray and forced herself to think about anything besides the fact that she was apparently okay with selling out her friend's mental health for the price of her student loans. 

Clint. Clint's arms. Clint's arms pulling back a bow. Clint getting hit by a bullet because his pretty uniform had shit body armor.

Gasping, she backed out of the spray and shook the water droplets off her face. Well that hadn't gone as planned. This wasn't the first time she'd given consideration to the fact that Clint might die on a mission, but it had never hit her so viscerally before. Before, he was just some guy she knew and maybe had a theoretical crush on. Now… well, it was complicated. More complicated than she wanted it to be. 

She finished showering, all the while, working herself up into a righteous snit over the fact that she and Jane were two very hot, very smart women who had put themselves in a dumbass situation. They deserved better than waiting around while two meatheads with hero complexes went out and got themselves blown up. Darcy wouldn't stand for it.

Showering without some kind of background noise always made her mind wander to the worst case scenario or get in imaginary fights with people. Turning the water off broke through the spell of negativity she had cast on herself and by the time she stepped out on the mat, the anger was starting to bleed out of her. 

She wasn't being fair. Thor wasn't a meathead. He was thoughtful and philosophical and he was constantly composing poems on Jane's beauty. And Darcy knew Clint had a keen mind that was constantly observing everything around him despite how hard he tried to mask it with a wise-cracking veneer. Didn't he invent his own trick arrows too? The guy was not dumb.

None of that erased the fact that these guys both made a living picking fights with very bad dudes. Sooner or later they were going to get hurt. Thor at least had an Asgardian constitution going for him, but they'd already watched him die once and come to think of it, maybe that was the source of Jane's anxiety every time he went into battle. As for Clint, his only defenses were hiding and dodging. How long would that be enough to save him?

Stalking down to the lab with wet hair and a sour mood, Darcy found Jane deep in stage one of her boyfriend-induced anxiety. She typed rapidly at whatever she was working on, but stopped every minute or so to tap on her phone to refresh her news feed. Pretty soon, she'd give up on working in favor of seeking out whatever social media posts she could find because those updated faster than the big name media outlets. Darcy's fingers itched to jump right ahead to that stage. She already knew which hashtags to check and someone had probably posted a video by now. 

Of course, that was only if the Avengers were doing something big and splashy. There were plenty of times where they did covert operations like in Monaco and Ibiza and Jane waited around all day with no news, steadily chewing her fingernails to nubs. 

“Any idea what they're doing yet?” Darcy asked. There was no use fighting this particular train wreck. 

“Something going on at Stark Tower. It started late last night. I guess Tony tried to handle it himself but finally decided he needed help.”

“Is there video?”

“I haven't looked yet,” Jane said in a tight voice. “I just want to get some work done. I'm way behind schedule if I want this published next quarter.”

“Fine, I'll look.”

“Darcy, leave it.”

“You always say you want to work, but all you end up writing on days like these is a bunch of gibberish that takes me forever to clean up. We've done this dozens of times now, I know how you operate. Let's just go eat ice cream and watch Pride and Prejudice.” Darcy looked away, unable to meet Jane's eyes suddenly. “Besides, I'm not exactly doing a great job processing being the little lady left behind to defend the homestead, so I'm definitely not getting any work done today either.”

Jane's fingers paused on her keyboard and she looked up with narrowed eyes. “I thought your thing with Clint was no big deal.”

“It may in fact be a bigger deal than I previously thought,” Darcy admitted. “I don't know, I just can't stop thinking about the fact that he doesn't have cool alien genetics to protect him if he like, falls down and hits his head or something.”

Jane didn't respond right away and Darcy looked up to see Jane staring at her, looking stricken with her hand on her heart. “Oh Darcy, I'm so sorry. Of course you'd be upset.”

"Look, it's not that serious, I just know we're both going to be mega distracted,” Darcy said, immediately backpedaling. This was the problem with admitting you had feelings to people. They wanted to acknowledge them and like, _talk_ about them.

“Well if it's not that serious, you can get some work done. I mean, it's not like you've already imagined five or six very graphic ways he could have died by now, right?” Jane said sarcastically.

Darcy flinched, physically recoiling like Jane had hit her, while another one of those very graphic possible deaths played out in her head. This time he was falling from one of those high vantage points he liked so much and no one was there to catch him. Damn her over-active imagination. 

“Sorry, that was mean."Jane said with a sigh and stood, turning off her monitor. "Come on, you're right. We're not doing anything useful today,”

“So ice cream and movies it is?” Darcy asked, trailing her out of the lab.

“Only if there's Bailey's to pour over the ice cream.” 

“Genius. That's why you're the one with all the letters after your name.”

Junk food in hand, they made a nest on the lounge's giant sectional with all of their pillows and blankets. As Jane snuggled with a fat pillow that surely smelled like Thor, Darcy stomped down on her irrational jealousy. She could go steal a pillow off of Clint's bed, but she was too afraid that he would find out and then she might have to answer awkward questions about why she did it. 

Just as Mr. Darcy walked away from his disastrous first proposal, Jane sat up and clutched Darcy's wrist. “He's going to be fine, you know that, right?”

“Uh, no Jane, I don't know that. That's why it feels like I can't breathe if I think about it too hard.” Darcy rolled her eyes and scraped around her empty ice cream bowl. 

“That's not what I mean.” Jane grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing Darcy to look at her. “You have to believe it. All the doubt and worry is suffocating and there's nothing you can do to change what happens out there. So believe he'll make it home and you'll get through this.”

“You are so full of crap,” Darcy said, jabbing her ice cream spoon I'm the air between their faces. “You're a nervous wreck every time Thor gets in a minor scuffle.”

Jane sank back into her blanket nest, deflated. “Yeah. Well, it was worth a try. There have been a few times I could have used that pep talk.”

“Jane, you've had that pep talk. I'm the one who gave it to you.” Darcy waved her hand when Jane looked like she was about to disagree. “Or something close enough anyway. Face it. Neither of us are the type of people who will take anything on belief.”

“No, I guess you're right,” Jane pouted.

“So you have any actually useful advice? Does tea help? I could make tea.”

“No, it's pretty much just constant low grade panic until he gets back.”

“Cool. Dating a superhero seems totally worth it.”

“Well.” Jane's mouth twisted as she hesitated. “The part where he comes home all pumped up with adrenaline from the fight is pretty great. I don't know if I'd say it's _worth_ all the worry, but it is a nice perk.”

“Are you saying I have post-fight banging to look forward to?” There had been sort of a promise of banging in their future when he said goodbye this morning. Would it be even better if he was all energized from the fight?

“I’m not going to pretend I know anything about Clint or what he's like in bed—”

“Incredible. A pluses across the board.” 

Jane grimaced. “Okay, maybe I should have specified that I didn't _want_ to know, but speaking from my own experience, post-fight sex is better than make-up sex.”

“Huh. Something to look forward to at least.”

“It's not much, but it's something,” Jane said with a shrug.

What it was, was a distraction. Exactly the sort of distraction she needed to keep her from freaking out. Instead of picturing all of the ways Clint could get hurt, she could spend her day planning the perfect way to help him wind down after the fight. This called for more ice cream.

* * *

Long after they’d switched from Bailey's-laced ice cream to Bailey’s-laced coffee, Wanda finally emerged from her room to find Darcy and Jane deep in a giggle fit over the state of Dr. Pearson’s toupee at the last conference they went to. Darcy wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten onto the subject at this point. 

“Are you guys drunk?” Wanda said, staring down at them in confusion.

That only set Jane and Darcy off into another round of giggles. 

“Buzzed, if anything," Darcy said. "It’s only Bailey’s. I’m pretty sure you can’t actually get drunk on Bailey’s, but you can help us find out.”

“Maybe after I’ve had breakfast," Wanda said. "Is this what you two usually do when we're gone?"

"No, today's a special case because Darcy—Ow!"

Darcy shot Jane a warning glance, her hand held out waiting to pinch Jane again if she decided to continue on about how Darcy was obsessing over Clint's safety. Jane glared at her but didn't say anything else, sulkily taking a sip of her coffee instead.

"We're just taking a mental health day," Darcy said breezily. True, but non-specific. Natasha’s lessons were proving useful for more than just undercover work.

“Did Clint talk to you about playing up things on your instagram yet?” Wanda asked after she joined them on the couch with a very sensible yogurt and granola parfait. “We were thinking that even if no one new followed you, that doesn’t mean they aren’t watching. And Viz thinks he’d be able to give the algorithm a push so that your account gets recommended to Sofia just to be sure.” 

“Nope, he hasn’t mentioned it. Clint and I don’t really talk.”

“Oh,” Wanda said with a confused little furrow of her brow. Then her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh!”

“No, It’s not what you’re thinking. God, I wish.” 

“Darcy’s in relationship limbo,” Jane explained, like that meant anything.

“It’s not a relationship!” Darcy smacked her in the arm. They’d been over this!

Jane smacked her back. “That’s what I meant!” 

“I don’t understand,” Wanda said. “I thought you two got together in Monaco?” 

“Physically, yes, there has been some togetherness. But no further. I refuse.” Darcy drew a line in the air like she could erect a physical barrier to prevent herself from reaching that dangerous place. 

Now Wanda looked even more confused. “Do you not like him? Did he do something wrong?”

“No! No, he’s great. It’s me. I have trust issues. I guess?” Darcy waved her hand around in front of her face, trying and failing to communicate something she wasn’t even sure of. “I just don’t want to get into anything serious unless I’m sure it’s a sure thing.”

God, she really didn't want to talk about this, but Darcy didn’t want Wanda to think Clint was in any way at fault for their weirdness. She knew Wanda thought of him like a big brother, or maybe a fun, young uncle you discovered late in life. Darcy didn't want to say anything that might damage that image for her.

“And getting serious with someone you already live with,” Jane started ticking off reasons on her fingers, “you already know likes you immensely, someone who was ready to I don’t know, _throw down_ with Captain America over your safety doesn’t sound like a sure thing?”

Darcy stared at Jane in disbelief. “I thought you wanted to snap all of his arrows.”

“I’ll do it if necessary,” Jane said with a sniff. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t seem likely.”

“Yeah well, at this point the only thing I’m sure of is that relationships equal pain.”

“Sometimes the love is worth the pain,” Wanda said, curling her feet under her with a dreamy smile.

“Love.” Darcy puffed out her cheeks and blew out a slow breath. “I’ve never been in love.”

“Well how could you be if you won’t even give anyone a shot?” Jane asked.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought of that, you know. It’s just that no one’s seemed worth the effort yet. Either they’re nice and safe but they don’t give me butterflies, or I get the butterflies, but there’s certain disaster on the horizon.” Wanda gave her a mystified stare, so Darcy added, “Clint’s the second one.”

Darcy took a swig of her coffee and grimaced. It had gone lukewarm while they were talking and the Bailey’s in it now tasted sweet enough to turn her stomach. Or maybe just this too-honest conversation. 

“And by the way Jane, the last time I just gave someone a shot, it was _Ian_.” Darcy waved her hand around, as if the gesture could encompass all the ways that particular foray into romance had sucked.

“Who’s Ian?” Wanda asked.

“An asshole,” Jane spat out. “Fucking nazi-wannabe, shit-for-brains scum.”

“Yep,” Darcy said. Then to Wanda who still had no idea who they were talking about, “We dated for like two months, he betrayed me on every possible level, including being terrible in bed despite his oversized dick.”

“He broke her heart,” Jane said.

“He did _not_ ,” Darcy said, suddenly furious. She cleared her throat and dialed it back a few notches. “But the only reason he didn’t is because I didn’t even like him that much. How long did I mope over that jerk, Jane?”

“About negative 7 seconds.” 

The length of time it took for Darcy to realize her boyfriend was trying to recruit her to help him steal Jane’s work for Hydra because he couldn’t figure out their encryption system on his own and then to deliver a swift kick to his balls.

“That’s right. Because I know better after watching you sink into a depressive episode because your true love took two years to come back to you. Don’t get attached and you can’t get hurt.”

“Okay, but we know for a fact that Clint isn’t Hydra,” Jane said.

“I don’t think he has plans to leave, either,” Wanda added quietly.

“So? I’m scarred. I’m _scared_. He _seems_ great, but he told me with his own mouth that he’s not in great shape mentally and he’s out there right now risking his life doing god knows what. It’s just a lot, okay? I’m comfortable with where we’re at right now and so far he hasn’t had any complaints either.”

Wanda and Jane shared a look and Darcy climbed out of her blanket nest with a growl of frustration. That was more than enough girl talk for now. Just because everyone else wanted her to be serious about Clint doesn't mean that was what she wanted. She wanted fun. And at least in this area of her life she was going to get what she wanted.


	15. Chapter 15

The call had been about as routine as they get. AIM pulling their usual domestic terrorism/corporate espionage bullshit at Stark Tower. Iron Man had them in a stalemate and had called in the rest of the team to tip the scales. Truth be told, it was too small of a job for all of them at once. Natasha and Bucky kept getting in each other's way. Bruce spent the whole fight cooling his heels in the jet since they didn't want a Code Green in Midtown if they could help it, and their flyers were mostly useless inside the building. 

The bad guys were stopped and everyone went home safe and sound, but Clint and probably half the team would have been better off sleeping through it. He needed to talk to Cap about instituting a rolling roster or something now that they had so many people on the team. Or would that just be an open door for Cap to have a talk with him about how a regular human who fought with nothing more than a bow and arrow wasn't really all that useful? Better leave it alone.

Wearily, he pushed open his door and let it swing shut behind him, but something stopped it from closing. He spun to find Darcy, looking sweetly alluring in a black and white polka dot sundress. She came in and shut the door, leaning against it before she spoke.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he said.

“I see you're still in one piece,” she said, skimming around him and over to his desk.

“I had a pretty good incentive.” He'd forgotten until just now, actually. Dismissed it as flirting, gotten distracted by the fight, and then it had just slipped right out of his mind. Of course, that wouldn't stop him from collecting on her promise.

Darcy pushed his arrowhead prototypes aside and sat on the edge of his desk, swinging her bare feet. Now this was a hell of a welcome home present. She watched him with a tiny curl of a smile and an interested tilt of her head while he took off his gear. Vest, belt, and boots all piled near the door to be cleaned and readied for next time. Shirt, pants, and socks in the laundry basket to be forgotten until he ran out of clean ones.

“Do I need to bother putting clothes on?” He asked.

Darcy smiled wider and shook her head. Oh thank god. Between his flashback freaking her out and this stupid fucking bait plan they were working on, he'd been working extra hard to give her space. She was all he thought about all week long though, and he didn't want to wait another second to get his hands on her. He stepped in between her knees and she automatically spread them to accommodate him. 

“I missed you,” he said. 

Dammit, that was exactly the sort of thing he'd been trying not to say. He was letting himself get too fond. Doubling back this morning had gotten him a stern talking to from Cap about priorities and punctuality but he'd found it impossible to head out to a fight without at least kissing her goodbye. She paused just a beat too long before answering. 

“I missed you, too. You kinda made yourself scarce lately.”

“I'm here now.” He wasn't going to explain why he'd stayed away and risk reminding her of all the parts of him she didn't want to deal with. 

The skirt of her dress had hiked up her legs and he trailed his fingers over her smooth skin from knee to hem. Man, did he ever love sundress season, but this wasn't Darcy's usual look. 

“Did you wear this for me?” He asked. The thin strap slid off her shoulder with no effort at all.

“I think you'll be more interested in what I didn't wear,” she said. 

She placed her hand on top of his and together they slid her skirt all the way up to her hips, revealing her total lack of panties. He was already hard, but that was enough to make his cock throb. This girl was like a walking wet dream for him. 

“This is gonna be hell on my knees, but how can I refuse an invitation like that?” He folded his legs underneath him, scooted her hips closer to the edge of the desk, and buried his face in her pussy.

“Well don't injure yourself. Oh!” She let out a delighted little squeal and her thighs squeezed around his ears. “Nevermind. Do what you want.”

He swirled his tongue around her clit and almost instantly, her legs started shaking. How many times could he get her off this time? He loved the way the first couple of orgasms just seemed to wake her up. After that time in the shower, she'd been more alert and chipper than if she'd downed an espresso.

She went off like a shot in no time at all, but Clint didn't let up on her clit, just licked her straight through her orgasm and kept on going and pretty soon she was begging him for another. He loved that about her too. He could tell she tried to stay quiet during sex, but was never very successful. It made him more grateful than usual for his hearing aids because he didn't want to miss a single one of her moans.

“ _Clint_ , oh god, please.”

Well, how could he deny her when she asked so nicely? He slid two fingers into the soft warmth of her pussy and she clamped down hard on him. He waited for her to relax and then started up a slow massaging pressure while he kept licking tiny circles around her clit. 

She came again, moaning his name and pulling his hair, which _hurt_ damnit, but he liked her enthusiasm. He sat back on his heels and wiped at his chin while she was still coming back down to this plane of existence. His knees creaked when he stood, but it was worth it for the dazzling smile she gave him.

Clint tried to pull her off the desk so they could get more comfortable on the bed, but she resisted and he frowned down at her, puzzled. 

“Right here,” she said, pulling a condom out of her cleavage like a magic trick. “Fuck me right here.”

He was really too tall for this position, but if that was what she wanted, he'd make it work. He shucked his underwear and kicked them aside while she pulled her dress over her head. No bra, either. She was killing him. 

He rolled the condom on and pulled her even more on the edge of the desk until her butt was barely on it. “Lean back on your hands.”

He bent over her and took her mouth in a deep kiss and pushed into her tight, wet heat. The bad news was, turns out he died today after all. But good news, this was heaven. 

She wrapped her legs around him and he lifted her ass off the desk, pounding into her with abandon. That was better. He didn't have to bend so much and he could watch the way her head tipped back and the way her breasts bounced with every thrust.

_Worth his while_. Clint thought he might actually start being careful if it meant coming home to this every time he didn't get injured. If only he could guarantee that were the case and their arrangement wasn't so flexible. 

A crease formed between Darcy's eyebrows and Clint paused his thrusts. “You okay?”

“I’m a weakling. My arms are getting tired,” she said, shifting uncomfortably under him. 

“Come here, I got you.” He pulled her in close, shifting so his hands were under her butt, holding her up, and her arms and legs wrapped around him. His cock was still inside her and he thrusted shallowly while he weighed his options. 

The desk chair wouldn't work with her facing him like this because the arms would get in the way. Up against the wall was tempting, but he wanted her to be comfortable. There was really only one option left, so he carefully backed them over to the bed and even more carefully, sat on the edge. 

She sighed happily and wriggled down on his cock and Clint held her face gently while he kissed her. God, he loved making her happy and watching the way her face lit up with a smile.

He thrust inside of her and she met his thrust with her own. There wasn't a lot of friction like this, but Clint loved how close they were, loved being able to kiss her and feel her breasts pressed up against his chest. He loved… her.

Clint broke their kiss and ducked his head, bringing her nipple to his mouth, while he quietly reeled from that revelation. Was it really such a shock though? He'd known from the moment he met her that she'd be more important to him than just another quick lay. 

He tipped them both to the side and rolled on top of her. He thrusted deeper and her surprised smile quickly turned into a silent gasp of pleasure.

_I love you_ , he thought. He pulled out almost all the way and slid home again, hard and fast. He did it again and again until her thighs were quivering under his hands. Her moans got higher and breathier and Clint watched in stupified, horny awe while she pinched and rolled her nipples between her fingers. 

“Holy fuck, oh my god. Harder, harder!” she cried and Clint obeyed. He slammed into her until she was holding onto his shoulders desperately, her nails carving into his skin. She came, finally, explosively, and he sped up to follow her over the cliff. They both panted harshly and pressed their sweaty foreheads together. 

_I love you_ , he thought again as he held her close and kissed her reddened cheek. He could think it, he just couldn’t say it. Not yet. 

“You know if you’re taking notes,” Clint said, separating from her, “I find this kind of positive reinforcement _very_ effective in modifying my behavior.” 

Darcy laughed and got up to slip her dress back on. “I’ll be sure to put that in your file. Does it also apply to not avoiding me for days at a time whenever things get a little bit weird between us? Because gotta say, not loving that.”

“Uh.” Clint froze, still bent over and digging through his pile of clean laundry for a pair of underwear. “Only one way to find out?”

She came in close and kissed the corner of his jaw. “Anytime you’re ready to try, I think it’d be a more fun way to work out any awkwardness than just going radio silent.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Might be fun, but he didn’t know how effective it’d be if they just kept having sex and never talking.

“Hey JARVIS, is the hall clear?” Darcy asked.

“It is Miss Lewis.”

Darcy turned and blew Clint a kiss, then slipped out through the door. Clint sighed and tossed the t-shirt in his hand back in the pile. Yeah, not yet.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to cut a chapter for length because the word count on this thing is getting away from me and it wasn't really necessary. I can never truly kill my darlings though, so if you want to read sexy massage smut, you can find it over on [my tumblr](https://stuffedpretzel.tumblr.com/post/186701797281/plan-f-outtake-chapter-15b).

The resident areas of the facility were weirdly quiet for a Friday night, just Natasha working at the dinner table on a laptop and munching on one of her gross pb&j’s. Clint flipped the chair next to her around and sat, resting his forearms on the back.

“Anything good yet?”

She rocked a hand back and forth. “There’s about a dozen low level guys already on the ground but no one’s even approached the compound yet. They’re all staying in the city for now.”

“Too bad they’re not dumb enough to just knock on the front door.”

Natasha hummed in agreement, then clicked over to another screen. “Huh. That’s interesting. Karlsson just landed.”

“The big Swede fucker Darcy knocked the shit out of? Volta didn’t fire him?”

“I guess not. Or maybe he has another reason to be here.”

“But still no one high up enough to make this worth all of the effort.”

“Nope,” Natasha said, her lips popping on the “p.” “Time to step things up. You want a hand with the planning?”

“Nah, I got it. You think I don’t know how to plan a date?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh it’s a date, now. I thought you guys weren’t doing that.”

“She said she wanted casual.” Clint shrugged. “So I’ll just very casually make her fall in love with me.”

“Fall in—” Natasha stared at him with a combination of dread and pity. “Oh Clint, no.”

“What, you don’t think I can do it?”

Natasha closed her eyes and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “Just promise me if you decide to run off to the Poconos and get married again, you’ll invite me this time.”

“Poconos,” Clint scoffed. “Catskills are closer.”

* * *

_Last chance to RSVP for the Class of ‘09 ten year reunion! Join us next Saturday to have the time of your life all over again!_

Scowling, Darcy stabbed at her phone's screen to close the email without responding. Not only were the organizers for this pathetic event about three months behind schedule, they hadn't even been able to come up with a slogan specific to the year they graduated. 

“You need to eventually tell them yes, you know,” Clint said, vaulting over the back of the couch to sit next to her.

“It's rude to read over people's shoulders, you know. What if I had been looking at porn?” 

Over in the kitchen, Bruce fumbled a butter knife and it clattered against the counter. Darcy slanted a look his way. That was one of the many problems with living here. Someone was always listening.

“I don't believe for a second that you'd do that in public, but do you really think I'm not curious what kind of porn you look at?” Clint asked. Obviously he didn't care about having an audience.

“Let’s save that conversation for when we’re a little less exposed,” she said in a hushed voice. Then she looked back down at her phone and felt the smile Clint always managed to tease out of her slip. “I just really don't want to go. High school sucked. If it weren’t for you guys, I wouldn’t even be reading the emails.”

“You’re the one who suggested it. If you don’t want to do this, we’ll… I don’t know, we’ll figure something out. But we need to know either way.”

“Yeah, I know.” Darcy sighed and opened up the email again. She clicked on the link to RSVP and seconds later it was official. Darcy Lewis was going to her ten year reunion. 

“I’ve got something to take your mind off of it, if you’re up for it.”

Darcy turned to look at him with specific interest. “Oh yeah?” 

“Not that. We need to take a couple pictures to put on your Instagram. We confirmed that you've attracted some attention, but if we want Volta, I should be on there, too. Throw it in his face a little that he had an Avenger right in front of him and he didn't know it."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Whatever that contingency plan entailed must be really unpleasant if the grimace on Clint's face was any indication. 

"What do we have to be doing in these pictures?"

"That's where the distraction comes in. Let's go for a walk."

Darcy glanced down at her comfy, lounging around on a Saturday afternoon clothes, and then squinted at the bright sunshine outside the windows. "JARVIS, what’s the weather like today?”

“The current temperature is 84 degrees fahrenheit with a humidity of 62%.”

So in other words, Hell. This would throw off Darcy’s very important tasks of doing laundry and watching another season of Great British Bake Off, but she didn’t want to say no and watch that boyish, eager look he had on his face disappear.

“Give me a few minutes to change?”

“No problem.” He leaned over and pecked a kiss on her cheek. “Hey, since I’ve got time I’m gonna make lunch to bring with us. You want a turkey sandwich or roast beef?”

“Turkey. No—”

“No lettuce, I know. Go get changed.” He waved her off and headed for the kitchen.

Feeling slightly bewildered, Darcy left to try and find something to wear that wouldn’t give her heatstroke the second she stepped outside. Her wardrobe was limited and most of it was long pants and long-sleeved shirts. There was the dress she’d worn the other day when she surprised Clint, but would that be too dressy compared to Clint’s Converse and jeans? 

She was overthinking things as usual. Who cared if they matched? The important thing was that Sofia, or Volta, or who-the-fuck-ever was watching, saw her and Clint together. Of course, that meant all of her other followers would see too. All of her college friends, her nosy cousin who was always the first to comment on any post, and oh god, her _brother_. Which meant her Dad would hear about it, which meant her Mom would be calling and wanting to know every detail within hours of whatever she posted. 

But hey, what was one more headache to add onto this never ending drama? Darcy sighed to herself and went with the dress. Just another week and hopefully things would settle down again.

Outside, the cicadas were making a racket in the trees and there was one very persistent gnat that had managed to evade every swipe of Darcy’s hand. Clint had led her down the main trail along the river, and all of the everyday sounds of the Avengers facility had faded away as soon as they were out of sight. It was just them, the screaming bugs, and the burble of the Mohawk River which made her vaguely wish she had peed before they left. The view was nice, though. She’d never bothered to come down here on her own before.

“So who’s idea was this, exactly?” she asked.

“Mine, why?”

“Just seems like we could have snapped a quick picture together and gone about our day. I thought maybe Natasha was meddling again.”

“Nat was not involved in my decision making process in any way. I just thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air and have some fun while we do this thing.”

“Fresh air is nicer when it isn’t the consistency of soup. I’m going to be all sweaty in the pictures.” Darcy swiped at the thin film of sweat already coating her forehead. Ugh, gross.

“Come here.” Clint stopped walking and pulled her into him. “Forget about the pictures, okay? We’ll get them done and you’ll look beautiful because you always do, but they’re secondary, you know? Let’s just have some fun.”

“Next time we do something with air-conditioning?”

Clint smiled down at her. “Yeah, whatever you want.”

They walked on down the path, their hands linked, and between one step and another, Darcy had the startling realization that this was a date. She felt kind of stupid for not twigging on to what was happening sooner. He even brought a freaking picnic. And now she’d implied there would be more dates in their future. 

That was fine, though, right? Dating didn’t equal a relationship. Relationships were filled with obligations and expectations and worrying about making a good impression on the other person’s friends. Dating was just having a good time and that was exactly what Darcy was looking for. There was no reason to limit herself to only having fun with him if they were naked.

A small trail parted the trees on their right and Clint veered toward it. Darcy swallowed a sigh. At least it looked shady. They walked on for another 10 minutes or so until the path opened up onto a small clearing. 

On one end were several archery targets hanging from branches and attached to tree trunks. She even spied a couple tiny ones tucked away in the canopy. Leaning up against another tree on the opposite side of the clearing were a bow and arrows.

“Okay, tell the truth,” said with a laugh. “How much were you influenced by the animated Robin Hood as a kid?”

He shrugged. “More than most people, I guess.”

“At least you just got into archery and not furry porn.”

“Near miss,” he said, holding up his fingers about an inch apart. “Maid Marion was a babe.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose, but she couldn’t stop the laugh from bursting out of her. “So do I actually get to learn how to shoot your bow? Or did you just bring me here to watch you do target practice?”

Clint traded the backpack holding their picnic for the bow. “Nope, this is all for you. You ever shoot before?”

"Just my taser. Probably not a lot of skill transfer there.”

“That's perfect. A blank slate’s easier to work with than fixing someone else’s bad instruction.”

“What makes you so sure your instruction would be better?" Darcy asked with a tilt of her head. "Just because you're good at what you do doesn't mean you can teach me to be good at it."

“Pfft. I’m a great teacher. Got a protégé and everything.”

“Oh yeah, who is this mysterious protégé?” Darcy would have sworn she already knew all of his friends, but truthfully, she didn't know anything about him beyond his life as an Avenger.

“Her name’s Kate. She’s Hawkeye too. We worked together out of Brooklyn for a while. Now she’s out in LA trying to get a team of her own going. All because I’m such a great teacher.”

“Doesn’t it get confusing, you guys using the same name?”

“Everyone asks that. It’s not that complicated.” He walked her over to line up with the center target. “Come on, enough stalling. You’re gonna love this.”

Clint patiently took her through the steps of how to hold the bow, how to nock the arrow, how far to pull back the string. The mechanics weren’t hard—it was afterall a weapon easy enough for cavemen to operate—but when it came to aiming, Darcy was hopeless. 

“I should have brought my glasses,” she said when another arrow went sailing past the target into the trees beyond.

“Yeah, that might have helped,” Clint said doubtfully. 

“Sorry, sensei, I guess you won’t be adding another Hawkeye to the ranks.” She nocked another arrow and lined it up with the target. This one wasn’t going to hit either, but she was enjoying going through the motions and watching the arrow fly even if it didn’t land where she wanted it to.

“Well you look good, even if you can’t shoot worth shit.” The shutter on his phone clicked as he snapped a picture of her from behind. He’d been carefully documenting her lack of progress from every angle. 

“That’s all that matters, right? I’ll leave the deadly accuracy to you.” She loosed the arrow and it hit the tree just below the target and bounced off the bark. “Hey, that was better!”

She spun to face him, bouncing on her toes in excitement, and caught him filming her. “Come on, we’ve got enough of that by now, don’t we?”

“Yeah, probably,” he said, watching her with fond eyes. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Then he reeled her in for a kiss and Darcy melted against him. The shutter went off again right next to their faces. Darcy growled in annoyance and turned to glare at the camera. 

“Sorry, still need at least one of us together," Clint said. He didn't look sorry at all.

She swiped through to the most recent picture to see photographic evidence of one of the hottest guys she’d ever met kissing the hell of out of her. She definitely needed a copy of that, but it wouldn’t work for their purposes. “I can’t put that on Instagram, it looks like you’re eating my face. Let’s take a regular selfie.”

He took another, much more public-friendly picture and then finally put his phone away. That left his hands free to make subtle adjustments to the angle of Darcy's elbow or the way her hips were facing, but that didn't improve her aim any. If anything it made her worse, her mind fixating on the touch of his hands instead of the target. Once she was out of arrows to shoot, they took a walk through the undergrowth to hunt for her strays before taking a break to eat lunch. 

Not only was there no lettuce on her sandwich, Clint had known to add pepperoncinis. Just another one of those things he seemed to know about her without asking. She wasn't even weirded out by it anymore, just reluctantly charmed. At least to herself, she could admit that it felt pretty damn nice to have someone pay such close attention to what she liked.

“So can you do the Robin Hood shot?” Darcy asked. She'd been gazing out at his makeshift range, trying to imagine him out here on his own, practicing trick shots. But why just imagine it when she had the real thing here to give her a personal demonstration?

“Sure.” Clint gave a careless shrug, like pulling off something the Mythbusters had proved impossible was nothing.

“Can I see?”

“It’s a waste of a perfectly good arrow, but you’re not going to believe me unless you see it, are you?”

“I believe you.” She didn’t. He was pretty good at the whole archery thing, but come on. 

Clint rolled his eyes, popped the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth, and got to his feet. “You’re lucky I brought the wooden arrows out here. It's not as impressive with the carbon fiber ones.”

“Yeah, what about those blunt arrowheads? That gonna trip you up any?”

“Nope.” Clint nocked an arrow and fired. Bullseye, of course. 

“Just seems like it’d make it easier to split the wood with sharp ones.”

“It does.” He sighted the arrow and let it fly.

Too fast for her eyes to watch it happen, Darcy heard rather than saw the first arrow split. She leaned forward and squinted, but she really couldn't make out the details from that distance without her glasses. She moved toward the target and halfway there she could finally see it. The second arrow had completely obliterated the first one, leaving nothing but a three inch splinter sticking out on one side.

"Holy shit."

"I knew you didn't believe me."

"I do now," Darcy said. She was still staring at the target, amazed. "Give me your phone. That's getting posted for sure."

He handed over the phone, then when she went to give it back, reached for her wrist instead and pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms snugly around her waist. "You wanna shoot some more? Might take me a minute to dig the arrows out."

"Clint, we could stay out here for hours and I still wouldn't hit the target, let alone the bullseye." It felt nice being all wrapped up like that, even in the afternoon heat. She curled her arms around his neck and leaned into him even more. 

"Just takes practice."

"I'd rather spend my time on other things.”

“Should we look through the pictures and decide which ones to use?”

“Not what I had in mind, no.” 

Was he being deliberately obtuse or did he really not see where she was going with this? Darcy trailed her fingers up the back of his neck and raked her nails through the short hairs at the base of his skull. His hands tightened on the small of her back and pressed her closer. Now they were getting somewhere.

“We could head back home if you want,” he said. 

“We could, but you know what just occurred to me? Sure, it’s hot and sticky out here, but this is the first time we’ve been one hundred percent, completely alone. Not even JARVIS can listen in.” The thought had actually come to her shortly after she realized this was a date. Darcy was definitely guilty of having a one track mind these days.

“When you put it like that…” He dipped his head to kiss her and Darcy sighed into it.

* * *

In the end, Darcy posted three pictures and put a video of Clint shooting on her stories. They’d stayed out there for hours after all, though only a fraction of the time was spent on target practice. 

They’d accomplished their goal, though. By the time they started walking back to the compound, the likes and comments were already rolling in. Though the captions she’d posted hadn’t implied Clint was anything more than a friend, people went right ahead and assumed they were together. 

**You guys look so cute!**

**Can he set me up with one of the other Avengers?**

**Why is archery so hot???**

And then from Vanessa, **PLEASE tell me you’re bringing him to the reunion.**

Darcy showed that last one to Clint. “I am, right? I kind of assumed you’d be my date but I guess I should have asked.”

“Yeah, it’ll be me.”

“We’re going to have to—I mean, it’s going to look like we’re, you know, a _thing_.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

No, he didn’t, did he? Darcy was the one with the problem.

“It’ll be just like Monaco,” she said with false lightness. “Think we’ll have to make out to maintain our cover again?”

“We didn’t really have to do that the first time, I just couldn’t keep my hands off you.” 

“I am pretty irresistible.”

“You are. Don’t know why I even bothered trying,” he said with a rueful smile.

Guilt flared hot in her belly. He still hadn’t said or done anything to show that he minded their arrangement, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted more. She didn’t know how much longer he’d be happy to let her keep him at arm’s length. 

Frowning to herself, Darcy typed out a reply to Vanessa. **Yep, he’ll be there.**


	17. Chapter 17

Darcy awoke Monday morning, not to her alarm, but to raised voices in the lounge. The bedrooms were generally pretty sound-proof, so whatever was going on out there must be pretty loud. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand to check the time and almost dropped it again. Throughout the night, her Instagram had jumped from 147 followers to over three thousand. The notifications didn’t even bear mentioning. Out in the lounge, there was a lull, punctuated by an angry shout from Thor. Darcy sighed and threw back her blankets. Time to go see what nonsense was afoot today.

The ruckus, as it were, was nothing but a large-scale argument. All of the Avengers, plus Jane, talking over each other loudly enough that it might as well be yelling. Thor caught sight of her as she came down the hall and gestured to her triumphantly.

“Darcy! Are we not friends?” 

The group argument halted and everyone’s head swiveled to her. She hovered just outside the lounge, not really comfortable having that much attention directed her way.

“We are,” Darcy said warily, not sure where he was going with this. 

“So then why should I not confirm our friendship for the world to see on the internet?”

“Because we had a _plan_ ,” Natasha said. By the level of frustration she was displaying, it sounded like something she’d already said several times.

“I enjoy interacting with the people. I should have created an Instagram account sooner. They’ve been very complimentary of my photography skills.”

“We went over this in the social media briefing last year,” Steve said. “We need to be careful about what we share about ourselves with the public.”

“People can’t live their lives consulting a PR rep every step of the way,” Jane said. “Besides, it was only one picture and one comment. Thor can’t help that people are interested in him.”

Darcy scrolled through the mess of notifications on her phone but gave up after only a couple swipes of her thumb. It would take too long to sift through all of the randos on her own. “What’s your username?”

“The Mighty Thor!” Thor flexed a bicep. “One word.”

Darcy typed that in and found him immediately. “Jesus, they already verified you?”

The one picture he’d posted was classic Thor. Just him, a beer, and Mew-Mew. With a sense of fatalism, Darcy went ahead and followed him back. Back on her own profile, Instagram’s algorithm had pushed his comment to the top of the heap. He’d left it on the picture of her and Clint, but it wasn’t anything exciting. Just a string of emojis which, if she interpreted them correctly, meant that he too thought they were cute together. And then an airplane, but that was probably a typo.

“I’m with Jane,” Darcy said with a shrug. “It’s kind of annoying on my end, but I don’t see why Thor can’t do Instagram. It's weird you guys don’t all have official social media by now, actually.”

A new comment popped up. **lol, Thor only follows one person and it’s THIS bitch?**

Maybe annoying was an understatement.

“It’s a hindrance to our covert operations,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, but Thor can’t do anything covert. He’s just as recognizable as Steve.” She may be getting totally shafted by his foray into social media, but she wasn’t going to deny the big guy his fun. She would just make a point of not reading any more comments she got.

“Social media for the team was going to be our next step, but we were going to be much more precise about it,” Natasha said. 

That set off the argument again, so Darcy took the opportunity to turn off her notifications before they drained her phone battery. Once this was over, she’d either have to delete her Instagram entirely or spend an afternoon blocking anyone she didn’t know and go back to private. Unlike Thor, Darcy did not enjoy interacting with the people. 

Just as she finished taking care of that, her phone lit up with a call from her mother. Darcy groaned to herself. She’d known it was coming, but that didn’t make her any more prepared to deal with it. She let it ring twice while she debated just ignoring the call. It wouldn’t do any good, though. Her mom would just keep calling back until she answered.

Clint abandoned the free-for-all in the lounge and came over with a worried frown on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just...” she swiped to accept the call before it could go to voicemail and gave him an exaggerated grimace as she brought it to her ear. “Hey, Mom. Now’s not really a great time.”

“Darcy Ann Lewis, why did I have to find out from Linda Reuters that you were coming into town next weekend?”

Darcy winced. “Surprise?” 

Darcy had been fully prepared for getting the third degree about Clint, but trying to explain why she wasn’t coming home hadn’t even crossed her mind. She’d really hoped she could just slip in and out of town for the reunion without her parents ever finding out. Clint hooked a thumb over his shoulder, silently asking if he should go, but Darcy placed a hand on his arm to keep him close. She had a feeling she was going to need the moral support.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was?" her mom asked. "I told her she must have been mistaken. My Darcy would never come home without telling me. But she tells me Vanessa told her just yesterday that not only are you going to your reunion, but that you’re bringing your new _boyfriend_.”

There it was. 

“Mom, I’m sorry. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision and I don’t have a lot of free time, so I’ll probably just be there the one night.”

“Find more time, Darcy. We haven’t seen you since Passover. Last year.”

Darcy sighed. This year there had been a conference that week and months later she was still catching hell for missing the holiday. But it wasn’t like Darcy had a car and could just drive down to Alexandria whenever she felt like it. She’d have to get a ride from Jane into Albany and then take the train, which cost _money_. Darcy had already wasted her breath over all of those arguments back in April, though.

“We videochat all the time,” she said. Like, at least once a month. Okay, she really should be calling her parents more.

“That is not the same thing as giving my only daughter a real hug. Now, hold on a second while I get your father on the line. He wants to talk to you, too.”

“No, please don’t get Dad. I really can’t talk right now.”

“Nonsense, baby, it’ll just take a second. Your father always loves hearing your voice.”

“Darcy?”

Darcy sighed. “Hi, Dad.”

Clint shot her an amused look and she stuck her tongue out at him. 

“So when are you coming in? I really wish you’d given us more notice. We’ve got a busy weekend. Your brother’s got the kids and they want to go to the zoo and see the pandas and oh! You’re going to have to sleep in the den. Bianca and Emma use your room now when they’re with us.”

“Don’t worry about it. The reunion’s at the Marriott. I was planning on just getting a room there.”

To Clint, she silently asked, “Right?”

He nodded, smirking and clearly enjoying how much this conversation was making her squirm. She poked him in the ribs in retaliation, but he just grabbed her hand and soothingly rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. 

“A hotel? Dana, she wants to get a hotel room.”

“What?” her mom screeched from a distance. Then much louder after she took the phone back, “Darcy you can’t stay in a hotel. We have plenty of room."

“It’s not that, I have other stuff going on. Look, let me talk to Clint and I’ll call you guys back.”

“Who’s Clint?” her dad asked. Oh good, now they had her on speakerphone so they could yell at her in tandem.

“The uh—” Darcy licked her lips and looked away from Clint. She wasn’t about to call him her boyfriend with him standing right there. “The guy I’m bringing? He’s one of the Avengers so he might be busy. You know, avenging stuff.”

“I don’t care who this schmuck is if he’s keeping me from seeing my daughter.”

“ _Dad_. If I do come home he’s going to have to come with me, so be nice.” 

“I’ll be nice if you come home. You don’t come, he’s a schmuck.”

Darcy rolled her eyes so hard it hurt and took a deep breath. “So I’ll call back when I know more, okay?”

“Today, Darcy. I want to hear back from you today.”

“Okay, Mom.”

They said goodbye and Darcy looked at Clint helplessly. “How difficult would it be for me to squeeze in seeing my parents?”

He hesitated. "It would be a huge safety concern for you and them. The hotel's easier to secure."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Darcy looked past him to where the rest of the super friends were now back to their usual level of good-natured bickering and gave him a tight smile. "It's cool, I'll make it up to them some other weekend."

"Darcy, we're almost done with this thing. We've got all the details ironed out and thanks to Thor, Volta just got on a plane to DC. Everything's going according to plan."

"Yeah. That's great." Darcy blew out a slow breath and untangled her hand from his. "Anyway, I'll see you later. I have to go disappoint my mom. Again."

* * *

It wasn’t like they needed another complication to the damn plan, but Clint watched Darcy go wishing there was something he could do to help. He didn't like seeing that slump in her shoulders and he especially didn't like being the one to cause it.

"Hey, any of you guys got parents?" He asked, rejoining the group in the lounge.

They all looked at each other in confused, awkward silence and after a moment of no one speaking up, Jane hesitantly raised her hand. The vibe in the room only got more awkward.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Clint said. "Darcy's parents want her to stop by and say hi this weekend. Think we can make that happen?"

"Look, man," Sam said, "we're all rooting for you guys--"

"Speak for yourself," Bucky muttered.

"--but we can't put civilians at risk so you can score points with your girl."

"But we already are. Darcy's a civilian," Bruce pointed out. "Don't we owe it to her after all we're putting her through?"

"This isn't about me trying to score points. I already told her no." Clint knocked Natasha’s feet out of the way so he could sit and she promptly dropped them back into his lap. "But we keep dragging her into dangerous situations, we're making her go to this thing she'd never even consider if it weren't for us, and now Thor's torpedoed her social media. We seriously can't give her this one thing?"

"You're right." Steve said. “I’d give anything to see my mom again. I’m not about to stop Darcy from seeing hers. Let’s make this happen.”

Clint didn’t always agree with the way Steve ran the team, especially lately, but the guy did have a way of lighting you up with hope and optimism. Any challenge seemed surmountable as long as he was around to give them a few words of inspiration. 

"Assuming the threat is neutralized at the reunion, would Darcy not be free to come and go as she wished?" Vision asked.

"Exactly, she can stay behind and see her parents the next day," Wanda said.

"We can take both of the quinjets and you can stay behind with her. It would be best to have someone around to keep an eye on her just in case," Natasha added.

"With the added bonus that Clint gets to meet Darcy's parents," Jane said with a sly grin.

"You'll like them," Thor said, slapping Clint on the back. "Ben and Dana are delightful."

Behind his back, Jane pulled a face and shook her head minutely. Oh, Clint had questions. He'd get his answers later, though.

"So we're all good with this?" Steve asked, mostly looking at Sam and Barnes.

"Yeah," Sam said, then to Clint, "Sorry I was a jerk about it before. " 

He held out his hand and Clint slapped it and bumped fists with him. Sam was cool despite his tendency to blindly back whatever Steve said.

"I'm not." Barnes said, but he wilted under Steve's disapproving frown. "But that doesn't mean I think Darcy should suffer just because she got caught up with a joker like you." 

"Great," Steve said, clapping his hands together, "so Thor, you're still going to have to delete your account."

Clint sighed and tipped his head back against the back of the couch. He never should have woken up this morning.


	18. Chapter 18

Another hotel room, another black and white movie, but at least it was in English this time. Clint was really watching Darcy out of the corner of his eye, though. He couldn't really be blamed. She was putting on a hell of a show over there, doing her makeup in just her underwear. 

He would have jumped her already if it weren't for the way she kept cursing under her breath and the tremor in her hand as she tried for the third time to get her eyeliner on straight. That, and they were running out of time before they had to get downstairs to the ballroom. She swore again, louder this time, and threw down her makeup brush and Clint decided it was time for an intervention. He turned off the tv and went over to stand behind her at the mirror.

"You seem nervous. Should we go over it again?"

Darcy delicately swiped at the corner of her eye with a wipe, changing nothing as far as Clint could tell, but whatever minute change she'd made seemed to satisfy her because she turned to face him. Her smile was brittle and pasted on, but it was there.

"No, we've run through it enough times that I'm pretty sure this plan is permanently etched into my brain now. I fully trust you guys have everything handled."

"What's got you so twisted up then?"

"Nothing. Just this whole," Darcy waved her hands around, "dumbass time warp back to the worst years of my life."

"Come on, it won't be all bad, right? Don't you want to see some of your old friends?"

"These people aren't friends. They're—" Darcy bit down on whatever she was going to say. "It's cool, it's just one night, right?" 

Clint nodded and gave into temptation, slipping a hand around her waist. "Couple of hours, tops. And you don't have to talk to anyone you don't want to."

"Promise?" Darcy asked. She stepped in close and tilted her face up to his, practically begging to be kissed.

"Can’t promise, but I’ll do my best to scare off anyone you point me at."

"Good enough." 

She drew his face down for a kiss and he let her take the lead on how intense it should be. If it were up to him, he'd have her bent over the bathroom counter already. If they had more time, he was sure he could manage to take her mind off all her worries. The second their lips touched though, it was clear Darcy wasn't just asking for a brief moment of affection. The kiss was deep and needy and full of teeth and her hands fisted in the front of his shirt to pull him closer.

"We have to be downstairs in five minutes," Clint said. He didn't make any effort to pull away though. He had a half-naked and horny Darcy in his arms. If there was any stopping this, he needed a little help from her on finding the willpower to do so. 

"I know. How fast do you think both of us can get off?"

There went the last of his objections. He was going to get so much shit from the team if they were late, but he wasn’t about to let an opening like that pass him by. "Only one way to find out."

"I was really hoping you'd say that," she said with a wicked grin.

Clint dove back in for another kiss and pushed her up against the closest wall and Darcy practically attacked his belt trying to blindly get it open. He tucked his hand into her panties, rubbing hard and fast at her clit and she squealed into his mouth.

"Ah! Holy shit!" Her hands stalled on his pants and her head thunked back against the wall.

Clint slowed his fingers. "Too much?" 

"Don't stop!" Her hand closed down on his wrist and she arched into his hand.

Picking up his pace again, he chuckled and sucked lightly on the skin just below her ear. He had the sudden urge to bite down and leave a mark, but he didn't think she'd thank him for leaving such a visible hickey, especially with how low her dress was cut.

"Oh my god." Darcy moaned and tilted her head to give him more access. She was holding on tight, one hand on his forearm and the other fisted around his waistband like she'd forgotten how taking pants off worked.

"You know how badly I just wanna keep you here all night? Say fuck the plan and see how many times I can make you come until you're begging me to stop?" He punctuated that with a little nip at her earlobe.

Darcy cried out again and came hard, shaking and shivering under his hand. She blinked her eyes open and stared up at him, dazed. 

"So the dirty talk works for you, huh?" he said with a smirk.

She blinked again and scowled at him, her face all scrunched up adorably. "Shut up and fuck me already." 

Clint picked up where Darcy had left off with his pants and shoved them down around his knees, in too much of a hurry to go any farther than that. She gave his aching cock a squeeze and he kissed her roughly before he spun her around and bumped her up against the sink. She braced her hands on the mirror and pressed back into him and he tugged her panties down just far enough to expose her pussy. He met her eyes in the mirror and they seemed to have the same thought at the same moment.

"Condom."

"Fucking condom," he agreed.

Without bothering to pull up his pants, Clint stumbled over to his bag, nearly braining himself on the nightstand in the process. He grabbed one and rolled it on as he made his way back to her.

"You know when this is over—" Darcy cut herself off with a moan as he slid into her.

Clint grabbed her hips and pistoned into her. Christ, talk about making your fantasies come true. This is exactly what he'd been picturing while she was getting ready. In the mirror, he had a perfect view of Darcy, her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent moan, and her tits threatening to spill out of her bra with every thrust. 

"We should talk about alternate—holy shit—methods," Darcy said. She opened her eyes and met his in the mirror and made a helplessly turned on noise. 

"What?"

Darcy shook her head and slammed back into him even harder. "Later. _Fuck_ this feels good."

It felt fucking amazing and he knew they should be hurrying things along, but he wasn't about to come when he knew he could get her off again with a little bit of effort. He braced one hand on the counter next to her and wrapped the other one around her, searching out her clit.

"Oh!" She cried out when he found it. "Dammit, Clint, this was supposed to be a quickie."

"Come faster, then," he said, pounding into her harder.

She laughed breathlessly and her eyelids fluttered closed again. Quickly enough that Clint would be tempted to give himself a pat on the back if his hands weren't already full, she came, her pussy clenching down on his cock. That was enough for him to follow her over the edge and he came too, clutching hard at her hips.

Clint slipped out of her and hauled her up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she half-turned in his arms to give him a slow, lazy kiss. 

“That help at all?” She definitely seemed more relaxed.

“It helped. How’d we do on time?”

Clint looked at the clock on the nightstand. Their five minutes were up. “We’re gonna be late, but I’d call that a necessary delay.”

“We don’t even really have to be in position until later.”

“We need you out and visible in public, remember?” he said, even though she was probably right. She’d chronicled their whole day on her Instagram stories. Anyone watching already knew exactly where to find her.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me get my worm costume on,” she said, pulling away and getting her underwear back in place.

“Hottest worm I’ve ever seen.” Clint followed her lead and got himself cleaned up. His shirt was a little wrinkled but the suit jacket would probably cover it and it wasn’t like he’d ironed it in the first place. 

“You say the sweetest things.” Darcy fluttered her eyelashes at him and pressed her hand to her chest like some kind of southern belle. 

"Everyone's a critic," he grumbled. He reached for his comms and switched them out with his everyday hearing aids while Darcy slipped into her dress.

“Are those new?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you wear them before.”

“Yep. Asked Stark to make them for me and he sent them down this morning. With the old ones, I couldn’t turn the radio function off, but now I can mute myself, or everyone else, or both and still keep listening to what’s going on around me.” 

Unlike his regular combination comms/aids that he used for work, these ones were meant to look like a regular set of BTE aids. Stark hadn't been able to help himself though, and these ones were sleeker and lighter than his regular pair. 

“Why didn’t he make them that way to begin with?” She turned her back to him to do up the zipper.

Clint shrugged even though she couldn’t see it. “Didn’t think of it? It wasn’t an issue before our thing in Monaco. Might not be an issue tonight either, but I like being able to talk to you without everyone else listening in.”

Darcy smiled at him over her shoulder and he caught her chin and leaned in for a kiss. She softened into him and he deepened the kiss, trying to pour every ounce of how much he wished they didn’t have to leave this room into it. She moaned softly and turned in his arms and he walked her backward to press her against the wall again. 

“You _can_ mute yourself, but you haven’t,” Natasha said. “We can all hear you guys making out.”

“It’s really gross,” Wanda said.

Clint broke the kiss, sighed, and fumbled with the tiny buttons behind his ears. “How about now?”

No one answered him, so he figured he must have at least muted himself. 

“They all heard that, didn’t they?” 

“Yep.”

“Well, it was a nice thought.”

He kissed her one more time and took a step back. It would be too easy to get caught up in the feel of her all over again and they had work to do. He put on his suit jacket and reviewed the instructions his comms had come with while Darcy swiped on some lipstick. Probably should have read it before he put them in, but what was one more instance of Clint making an ass of himself?

“Here, Stark sent something for you, too.” He took a necklace out of the case his aids had come in and fastened it around her neck.

She held it out and looked down at the bow and arrow pendant hanging from the chain, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Might as well tattoo your name on my ass.”

“I just asked him to make a tracker and this is what he sent. Guy thinks he’s funny." 

Fucking Stark was going to scare her off with this possessive bullshit. Although if Clint was being honest, he did like seeing the necklace on her. Maybe someday he'd get the chance to pick something out on his own and she'd even be willing to accept it.

“I better not actually need this," Darcy said. 

“You know our contingencies, you’re not going anywhere. This is just in case. You ready?” At her nod, Clint tapped on his aids so the radio was open both ways. “Nat, you read me?”

“Loud and clear and saliva free.”

“Hilarious. We’re headed down.”

“Finally. Everyone’s in position.”

* * *

The reunion was in the same ballroom at the Alexandria Marriott where Darcy had gone to prom. Whoever had been in charge of that decision was seriously demented. St. Mark's was a tiny private nerd high school that didn't even have a football team and where half the graduating class had gone on to the Ivies. Anyone still clinging to the sweaty nostalgia of their prom as the best night of their life needed to get out more.

Thankfully, the ballroom wasn't as packed and stuffy as it had been ten years ago. Only about a quarter of the Class of ‘09 and their significant others were there, mingling among the royal blue and gold decorations. Near the entrance was a photo booth where they were encouraged to take a picture with the school’s hideous mascot, Petey, under a hand painted “Go Patriots!” banner. 

Darcy tried to bypass it but Clint insisted they do it, hamming it up for the camera with his best blue steel pose. Vision, incognito as the photographer, looked so bewildered by his antics that Darcy couldn't help but laugh and join in with her own exaggerated pose. He finally just snapped a picture, probably anxious to get rid of them. 

Next was the sign-in table where Liz Worthington née Navarro was presiding over handing out name tags. No one at their school would have been considered popular. It was too tiny for that. Everyone knew everyone. What they had instead was a social strata based on how involved you were. There had been a handful of overachievers who did everything from student government to debate team to band and Liz was one of those. Here she was ten years later, and the girl still couldn’t help herself from volunteering for stuff. She looked up at them with a cheery smile that turned stiff the second she recognized Darcy.

“Darcy, my goodness, look at you! You haven’t changed a bit.” Her eyes dropped disapprovingly to Darcy’s chest for a split second, but her smile remained frozen in place.

“Me? Gosh, Liz, look at you. I can’t believe how much you take after your mother now,” Darcy said, falsely sweet. She could play this game, too.

Liz’s smile failed, but she covered by looking through the little box in front of her for Darcy’s name tag. “It’s still Lewis, right? And who’s your guest? You didn’t put a name down on the online form.”

“Clint Barton,” Clint spoke up, slipping a hand around her waist. “And if I get my way, it won’t be Lewis for much longer.” 

He’d been lingering behind her, turned away and taking stock of the room. Liz looked up at him, then blinked and a look of dawning recognition settled over her face. Her eyes darted between the possessive way he was holding her close, to the adoring smile he was giving Darcy, and back to Darcy who had leaned into his side.

“I already told you,” she said playing up their little act, “Darcy Barton sounds terrible. I’m keeping my name if we get married.”

Liz gave her an offended frown, then turned to Clint with a dazzling smile. “Well here you go, Mr. Barton. And I just have to say, thank you for what you did in New York.”

“It’s what we’re here for, ma’am.” Clint took their tags with an easy grin and guided Darcy away from the table. 

“Ooh, Mr. Barton, thank you for gracing us with your presence. You’re such a hero, _Mr. Barton,_ ” Darcy simpered at him.

“Ugh, please don’t. That’s just disturbing coming from you.”

Darcy laughed and looked around, trying to spot the rest of the team. She really hoped they had all heard that interaction. “It’s a good thing Steve stayed outside if even you got recognized. You think anyone else will have that problem?”

“Nah, no one pays attention to the staff at these things and it was the name that did it, not my face.”

Natasha passed in front of them, carrying a tray, her hair a mousy brown and looking unremarkable. Darcy had to admit, if she didn’t know it was her, she never would have guessed the nervous little waitress darting between party-goers was the deadly Black Widow. Vision looked like he usually did, but the public didn’t know he had a regular human-looking disguise, they only saw his red and green android form. Over at the DJ booth, Sam had the advantage of hiding behind a laptop and a massive pair of headphones. Wanda was the only one left of the ballroom squad who might be recognized, but Darcy figured that was her problem. All Darcy needed to worry about for the next hour was surviving all the assholes she went to high school with. 

The crowd parted and Darcy sighed in relief when she saw Vanessa and Alex at a cocktail table on the other side of the dance floor. She'd known they were coming of course, but Vanessa was typically an hour late everywhere she went. Such was the price she and everyone around her paid for her perfect hair. 

“Darcy!” Vanessa greeted her with equal relief. “Thank god you're here, I just got sucked into a ten minute conversation with Jeanine Spencer but she ran off when she saw you coming.”

“Good. I'm still mad at her for misprinting my senior quote in the yearbook.” Darcy hugged Vanessa and endured Alex's twee European cheek kisses. “Guys, this is Clint Barton. Clint, this is my oldest friend, Vanessa and her new husband, Alexandre de Massy.”

“Just Alex among friends,” Alex said, teeth shining like he was in a toothpaste commercial. “Your name sounds familiar. What sort of work do you do?”

“He's an Avenger, sweetie. Hawkeye, right?”

Like she didn’t know. Darcy smirked at her and Vanessa shot her a lightning fast glare. Darcy couldn’t help it, she always got a kick out of watching people try and pretend like they were too cool to care about superheroes. She couldn’t wait for all of this to be over so she could tell Vanessa she had spent the evening literally surrounded by the Avengers either in hiding or incognito.

“That's right,” Clint said.

“Oh, of course,” Alex said. “The archer, yes? Vanessa's a big Avengers fan. I am, too of course. Thank you for your service.”

 _Haha, busted_ , Darcy thought, grinning at Vanessa.

Next to her, Clint hesitated before mumbling something about it just being his job. Was he blushing, too? That was adorable. She squeezed his hand and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. She hadn’t meant to make him self-conscious with her teasing before. 

“Let's get a picture of the four of us,” Vanessa said, phone at the ready. 

They lined up, heads mashed together to fit in the frame, while Vanessa took several rapid shots. If they didn't get her off this train of thought now, they'd be posing all night long. Alex seemed to be on the same wavelength because he asked Clint to come with him to the bar to fetch them all drinks. 

The second they were gone, Vanessa rounded on her. “Tell me everything.”

“It's super new, there's nothing to tell,” Darcy said.

“But how? When? Why didn't you tell me at the wedding?”

“It happened after the wedding. He needed my help with something and we got to talking and then we got to fucking and now we're here.”

“How is it?” Vanessa asked, sotto voce.

Darcy looked around them before answering. It wouldn't do to accidentally boost Clint's ego by letting him overhear. “Phenomenal.”

“I can't believe my honeymoon literally just ended and I'm jealous of someone else's sex life. I'm so happy for you, but I also kind of hate you right now.”

“Whoa, whoa. It's good, but it's not 'just married into a royal family’ good. I think you still win this round.”

“It's not just that. I haven't had a chance to go over the page stats yet, but your article was huge. Everyone loved your perspective and left really positive comments about how funny you are. I need to get you on there again soon.” 

“It's a travel blog,” Darcy pointed out. She shouldn’t have to say that to the owner of said blog but she seemed to have forgotten a crucial detail. “I don't travel anywhere to write about.”

“You travelled here. Have you and Clint checked out the rest of Old Town yet? Alex and I did a walking tour earlier today, but I haven't written up a post yet. Just imagine the hits if you include a picture of Clint in front of the Spite House. People will _flip_.” 

Darcy shook her head. “I’m not using Clint for hits. Besides, I’ve already gotten more than enough online attention thanks to Thor.”

“You already put him on your Insta. What’s the difference?”

The thing was, Vanessa was totally right. The only reason she’d posted that picture of Clint was to get attention. That had been for a very specific purpose, though. Something just didn’t feel right about using him for personal gain like this. 

“We're busy tomorrow anyway. Your mom blabbed to my mom that I was in town, so now we have to go spend the day with family at the zoo tomorrow. It's gonna be a whole thing."

Darcy missed her parents and she was grateful to Clint and everyone for making sure she’d get to see them, but spending an entire day with them, her brother, and his adorable spawn was guaranteed to be an ordeal. Throw in bringing along a fake boyfriend and the summer tourist crowds and Darcy could already feel the stress headache building. And all of that wasn’t even taking into account that it would be coming right on the heels of whatever happened tonight. Darcy wished she could have a drink or three to calm her nerves, or maybe drag Clint into a supply closet for another round of sex therapy.

"Well, you know how I feel about pandas," Vanessa began.

"Overrated conservation fund hogs, yep. Go on."

"But the zoo would be a great place to spotlight too. People love those lazy assholes."

Darcy put her hands on her hips and stared Vanessa down. "Why the hell are you trying so hard to get me to do this?"

"Because I just think it would be a great opportunity for you!”

Uh huh. Darcy stared some more. 

“Okay, you got me," Vanessa said with an apologetic wince. "The thing is, I want to turn the blog into an online travel mag. I’ve got the numbers for it and Alex has all kinds of contacts to help me make a big splash with the launch. I'd be the editor and I was hoping to recruit you and a couple of my other blogger friends as regular writers."

"Again, I'm not the jetsetter I once was,” Darcy said with a sigh. “I go where Jane goes and these days the only places she goes are the lab and the bathroom."

"But that's the beauty of this job! Once you get established, these places pay you to travel. They comp the trips, I pay you for your fabulous way with words, we all win!"

"Right. And who would be paying for my vision and dental?" Five years ago, Darcy would have leaped at this chance. Now… Maybe she was just getting old, but she liked being able to actually pay her bills herself and not depend on her parents’ generosity for support. The only thing making her consider it now was how boring things had gotten once Thor decided to stay Midgard-bound.

Vanessa slumped a little. "Well you'd technically be freelancing, so that would be on you. But I know how much you love travelling, Darcy. Please, at least think about it?"

The guys came back with hands full of drinks and Clint cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Vanessa wants me to quit my job and go work for her." Darcy took a sip of the sadly rumless coke he'd brought her and rolled her eyes. 

“You want to be a travel writer?” Clint asked, looking perplexed. 

It wasn’t _that_ far-fetched. Sure, all he knew her as was as Jane’s assistant, but he didn’t know everything about her, despite his uncanny ability to file away details. Before she could answer though, Vanessa was back with the hard press. That girl never let up on anything, which was probably why she was so successful at everything she attempted.

"Right now, I'd settle for another guest feature on your zoo trip. Come on, you can't tell me it wasn't fun flexing your writing muscles again. When was the last time you wrote something that wasn't a physics paper?"

"I don't even write those, I just do the copy editing. I don't know, college I guess?" Darcy shrugged. "It was kind of cool to rise to the challenge. Not a lot of challenging tasks working for Jane these days."

If the experience hadn’t gotten all twisted up with this Volta thing, she might even have categorized it as downright delightful. Not only had she gotten to eat, drink, and sleep like a duchess for three days, Darcy really had gotten a little thrill from having so many people read what she wrote. The idea of doing that kind of thing professionally and actually being able to make a living off of it was tempting.

"See? Come on, it'll be just like when we were on the Patriot Times except you'll get to write about something more exciting than moldy egg salad sandwiches in the cafeteria."

"Hey, I won an award for that article." A pointless certificate of recognition by the diocese, which meant absolutely nothing to Darcy or her staunchly Jewish parents, but an award nonetheless.

"I know, I'm the one who nominated you. Some might say you still owe me one for that."

"Okay, fine!” Darcy said, throwing up her hands in defeat. “I'll do the zoo thing. No promises on the rest of it." 

Vanessa pumped her fist in triumph and Darcy looked to Clint to commiserate, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation, just frowning down at his drink, his eyes out of focus. The team must be talking a lot on the comms, she realized. A quick look around the ballroom her told it wasn’t anyone close by. They were all busy with their “jobs.” That still left Steve and Bucky outside or Bruce watching the surveillance feeds upstairs, though. 

She tapped his hand and signed an “O” and a “K” and drew a tiny question mark on the tablecloth where her hand would be hidden by his glass. Vanessa and Alex were too caught up in each other to pay attention to them anyway, but she figured discretion would be wise if some shit was going down outside.

Clint blinked hard at her signing and looked up at her in surprise. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You know sign language?”

“Just the alphabet and I always mix up Q and X.” She’d learned in high school, actually. Thanks, Sister Margaret. “I always wanted to learn more, but didn’t really have a reason to except to have secret conversations with other people who know sign language and you’re the first one I’ve met who does.”

“It’s kind of under-valued as a language,” Clint said with a bitter twist of his lips. “Nat knows it, too. And I guess Thor would with his Allspeak? I’ve never tried it out.”

“Huh,” Darcy said. Her fingers itched to text him and ask him, but he was at home acting as Jane’s bodyguard at the moment, which he was surely taking literally.

* * *

The look on Darcy’s face went from interested curiosity to abject horror to studied indifference so fast it might as well have flickered. He saw it though, that horror had been there, and whoever had caused it was approaching from somewhere over his left shoulder. He gripped the heavy-bottomed glass in his hand tightly, ready to use it as a weapon if need be and sighted a tall, dark-haired guy in the reflection of the tiny mylar balloons that made up the table’s centerpiece.

Vanessa, also able to see whoever was behind him, threw up her hands and joyfully called out, “Mike! Oh my god, _hi_!”

The guy ended up just being another alum. He looked like he might have been a good looking guy in high school, but he’d gone soft around the middle and the jowls in the ten years since. Darcy greeted him a lot less exuberantly than Vanessa had, but Clint couldn’t get a read on why. The whole time the three of them chatted, Clint and Alex standing on the edge of the conversation like the outsiders they were, the guy seemed perfectly pleasant, just catching up on how their lives had changed since they last saw each other. Darcy kept up the pleasant chit-chat too, but her back was totally rigid under his hand and her smile never reached her eyes.

The guy eventually left and she relaxed. But then it happened again. And again. And again. Not all guys, and it didn’t sound like they were all in the same activities, but every person who approached put the same flicker of fear on Darcy’s face. Whatever was going on, this was the reason she hadn’t wanted to come tonight. Clint tapped his comms and made sure he could still hear the team chattering over the radio but that he wouldn’t be broadcasting. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the table.

“To this?” she asked, but she let him tow her out onto the dance floor.

Sam had just put on a slow jam, something he vaguely remembered from around ten years ago. The guy was having way too much fun with his role as DJ if he tailored the playlist to Darcy’s high school years. No one else was dancing, leaving a nice buffer of space where he could talk to her without any of these assholes overhearing.

“You don’t want to see me try dancing to anything faster than this.” Even at this speed all he could really manage was a basic hold and sway, but that was good enough for him.

“I bet I do,” she said with a laugh.

“Too bad, not gonna happen. So you wanna tell me why you’ve been tensing up every time one of your old classmates comes over to say hi? I thought it was just normal teenage angst stuff making you regret coming to this thing, but now I’m thinking it was something worse.”

The smile he’d managed to tease out of her faded and her hands tightened around his shoulders. Darcy’s eyes slid over to Sam at the DJ stand and then to somewhere behind him, where Natasha was probably passing around a tray of canapes. 

“They can’t hear you. It’s just you and me. You get bullied or something?”

“No. Not exactly.” She licked her lips and looked away. “I got everyone’s favorite teacher fired. Funny thing was, he used to be my favorite teacher too before—Everyone just conveniently forgets that part.”

“Did he…” Rage was too nice of a word for what he was feeling right now.

“Corner me in the chemical supply closet and grab my boob? Yeah. Really put me off the wonders of science for awhile.”

Clint took a slow, deep breath. “And they blamed you for him being a gross old man who should know better than to grope his students?”

“Yeah, little bit of that, little bit of just flat out not believing it happened.” She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I keep expecting someone to bring it up or even just hint at it but it’s like everyone wants to pretend like it never happened and we were all the _best_ of _friends_ and that’s almost worse.”

“I wish you’d said something before. We didn’t have to do this here.” He let out a low growl of frustration. “We didn’t have to do it at all.”

"Yeah, well we’re here now. If this is what it takes for me to walk around without an armed escort, then I'm glad we're here.” She smiled up at him flirtatiously. "Doesn't hurt that my date is really hot."

"Oh yeah? Not as hot as my date.” He pitched his voice even lower and bent his head to her ear. “Have I mentioned that you look really good in that dress? Not as good as you look out of it, though."

“Don’t do that to me when we can’t do anything about it,” she said, her cheeks flushed. Then she took a deep breath, like she was trying to get herself under control. “You're old enough to have had one or two of these things. Did you go to yours?"

"No, I never did high school." Of all the random-ass topics for her to pick as a change of subject, she had to land on this one.

"Were you home schooled?" she asked.

"Nope. Dropped out after 8th grade." Maybe if he kept his answers short enough, she'd drop it or take it as a warning that she was headed somewhere with this line of questioning that she probably didn't want to go. 

"How the hell did you get away with that?"

So much for that. Well fine, if she was actually asking, he'd tell her. He kept his eyes up, though, looking out at the rest of the ballroom because… well, just because.

"There wasn't anyone around who cared by that point and the circus was in a different city every month, so..." Clint shrugged and tried for a lighter tone. "I eventually got my GED so I could join the Army, though."

“Wait, hang on. Are you saying you were in a circus?”

“Yeah, you didn't know? Went by The Amazing Hawkeye. That's how I got my start."

“How on earth would I have known that?” she asked, sounding mystified. 

If she’d ever asked a single question about his past it might have come up. She was good at not asking questions she didn’t want to know the answer to, though. Probably never would have wandered into these particularly murky waters if she thought his teenage years were as complicated as they had been.

“Yeah, you’re right. Forget it,” he said, forcing an easy smile and finally meeting her eyes.

Darcy shook her head, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus, I am such an _asshole_. And you just keep letting me get away with it.”

“Hey, you've been pretty clear that you only wanted sex from me. I wasn't about to dump my life story on you.”

“Yeah. I have, haven't I?" 

She went quiet for a moment, staring straight ahead, which meant even in her heels she was looking at his chin. The kind thing to do here would be to laugh it off, change the subject. Well screw being kind. He was in love with her and he was tired of pretending he wasn't. What the hell were they even doing here? Slow dancing at her high school reunion and sharing trauma and tomorrow he was meeting her parents. None of that was something you did with a casual hook-up. 

Sure, none of this would be happening if they weren't going after Volta, but it was happening all the same. He wanted to see it all as a sign that she was warming up to the idea of doing this for real, but what was the point if she took Vanessa’s job offer? He let the silence hang, let her think it through, hoping she'd come out the other side agreeing with him that they had a shot at something real here.

She finally met his eyes with a wry smile. "You really undersold yourself, you know?"

"What's that mean?"

"It means you gave me this whole spiel about how worried you were about your headspace and how it would affect me and I got freaked out. I thought if we got serious I'd end up being your unpaid therapist or something."

Clint frowned, not sure where she was going with this. "I have a therapist. His name's Doug."

"Great. Cool. Good to know." She laughed, just a nervous little giggle. "My point is, I'm an idiot for listening to you instead of paying attention to what you've actually been doing."

"And what's that?"

"You've been there for me through this whole thing, you actually care about what I want and what I like, and I don't know." Darcy shrugged and fiddled with the lapel of his jacket. "I just can't let things go on like this without reciprocating. I want to know you the way you know me."

“I don’t know everything about you, I just pay attention.” For instance, he still had no idea how seriously she was taking Vanessa’s job offer and if she’d still be around in a month. She had to be less likely to leave if they were in a relationship though, right?

"So you wanna do this then?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice coming out a little rough. "God, I really do."

Darcy stopped their swaying long enough to pull him down for a quick kiss.

“Thought you weren’t a fan of PDA.”

“You’re the exception, I guess.” 

She looked up at him with such a sweet, wondering expression and Clint groaned and took her face between his hands. Why the fuck did this have to happen now when he couldn’t carry her off to bed and show her exactly how much she meant to him?

"You have the worst timing, you know that?"

The music shifted abruptly to something faster and they sprung apart with a guilty glance at Sam. He sent a pointed glance at them and then at the sudden rush of people coming onto the dance floor, and Clint belatedly realized Sam had been keeping the music slow for them while they had their little heart to heart. 

“I take it back. Sam has the worst timing.”

* * *

Darcy's purse had been slipping off her shoulder for a solid minute but she couldn't adjust it with her drink in her left hand and her right was still tucked into Clint’s like it had been from the second they stepped off the dance floor. Something about finally making things official with him made her loath to lose that skin to skin contact even long enough to do something about her purse. There were some things though, that he just couldn’t tag along for. 

“How much time do we have left before our little melodrama plays out?” she asked, reluctantly breaking contact. 

“‘Bout twenty minutes before the speeches, why?” 

Darcy's stomach did an unpleasant roll. Okay, maybe she was a little nervous about this part of the night. They were timing things to the speeches and awards, hoping that would keep people inside the ballroom and out of the way of any fighting that might break out. 

“I just want to go to the bathroom first. Do I need a buddy for that, too?” She’d gotten through two alien invasions without peeing her pants in fear, but sometimes humans could be scarier than dark elves and she didn’t want to break her track record now.

Clint tapped on his aids. “Darcy needs to use the restroom.”

Glancing as surreptitiously as she knew how around the room, she saw their incognito friends make subtle changes to their positions. Wanda placed a sign on the bar where she had been making drinks. 

“You’re good. Wanda’s going to shadow you as far as the hallway,” he told Darcy. “Want me to grab you something to eat?"

Darcy grimaced and shook her head. “I can’t eat right now. Maybe after this is all over.”

He kissed her one more time and Darcy headed out of the ballroom. She passed Vision and Natasha doing bad and good jobs respectively of appearing busy while guarding the entrance. Out in the hall, Wanda was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom entrance, looking bored and scrolling through her phone. In her bartender uniform, she looked like she was just taking a break from her shitty job, but she glanced up as Darcy passed her and offered a tiny smile to let her know she was keeping a lookout. Darcy was grateful everyone was keeping such a close eye on her, but even more grateful she was at least allowed to pee in privacy.

The bathroom was empty when she went in, but as she came out of the stall, there was a tall blonde at the bank of sinks, inspecting her makeup in the mirror. There was something familiar about the woman and just as Darcy was trying to place which class they must have taken together, the woman spoke.

“It’s good to see you again, Jenna. Or is it Darcy?” 

Darcy met the other woman’s eyes in the mirror. “Sofia? What the hell are you doing here?”


	19. Chapter 19

A single scream could have brought Wanda running, but Darcy wasn’t afraid, just surprised. Between the expert dye job and some dramatic make-up, the woman in front of her barely resembled the woman she met in Monte Carlo, reconfirming Darcy’s belief that people who were good at doing make-up really might as well be shapeshifters. The superior way she assessed Darcy though, that was familiar.

“Don’t you own any other dresses?” Sofia asked, leaning casually against the sinks like this wasn’t an extremely tense situation for both of them.

Darcy looked down at the dress she had worn on Volta’s yacht and felt a brief flare of embarrassment. Whatever, she liked this dress and not everyone could afford a closet full of formalwear. Sofia wasn’t dressed up tonight, but she still exuded elegance and a limitless budget in slim black pants and a blazer.

“I wasn’t expecting to see anyone from the last time I wore it.” Only a half-lie. She didn’t personally know any of the thugs outside and as far as she knew, Volta was still keeping his distance. Darcy purposely turned away from Sofia, rooting through her bag for a tube of lipstick and her hand brushed reassuringly against her taser as she brought it out. Her hand didn’t even shake as she touched up her make-up she noted with a touch of pride. 

"Oh, we both know that's not true," Sofia said with a chuckle. "Not with the way you're being guarded tonight. They didn't think a woman would get involved though, did they? Sloppy."

Which guards was Sofia talking about, exactly? Just Clint, or had she clocked the other Avengers in the ballroom too? And if she knew about them, did she know about the ones outside? What about the undercover police officers positioned around the hotel and the uniformed officers just waiting to be called in? There was no way she could know about all of them and still plan on going through with whatever this was. 

Darcy put her lipstick back in her bag and curled her hand around the grip of her taser and turned a hard look on Sofia. "Why _are_ you involved? I knew you’d go back on our agreement the second he pressured you, but you don’t really seem like the type to get your hands dirty.”

“Pressured me? There was no pressure. I told Benicio all about you willingly.”

“Oh, is this the part where you reveal you’ve been the mastermind behind Volta’s operations this whole time?” Darcy asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. She really was living through a bad James Bond spoof.

“Of course not. Do you really think I’d tolerate the way he treats women if that were true?”

“I don’t know, Sofia,” Darcy said, suddenly tired. “What is the truth? Why are you here?”

The door opened and Natasha, still in her mousy waitress disguise, came in. Out in the hall, Wanda had her phone held up to her ear and she gave Darcy a brief, reassuring look before she said something into the phone Darcy couldn‘t hear and then the door swung shut again. Natasha didn’t make eye contact, just entered the stall closest to the door and shut it behind her. Sofia glanced at her but immediately wrote her off as unimportant.

 _Now who's being sloppy,_ Darcy thought to herself.

“Well?” Darcy asked, impatiently. She was feeling a little more daring now that back-up was so close by. “Now’s your chance to play on my sympathies. What’s the story? You’re in love with him but he likes his girls too young for him to notice you?”

“I’m not in love with _him_ ,” Sofia spat out. Then she drew a small, pearl-handled pistol from behind her back and pointed it at Darcy. “He’s promised me he’ll grant Felicity a divorce as long as I bring you to him. So I’m very sorry, but you’re going to have to come with me.”

Darcy swallowed, her eyes locked on the shaking barrel of the gun. If she drew her taser now, Sofia might shoot her purely from nerves. Behind Sofia, Natasha’s stall door opened silently, and by the set of her shoulders, Darcy could tell she was through pretending to be anything other than her badass self. 

“She won’t be going anywhere with you.”

Sofia whirled and Darcy finally drew her taser, but Natasha didn’t need the help. She grabbed Sofia’s wrist and twisted the gun out of her hand before Sofia could even finish swinging it around. One hit to the face and Sofia teetered on her fashionable—but impractical for a kidnapping—heels and went sprawling on the ground. Natasha kneeled on her back, pinning her arms behind her, completely eliminating Sofia as a threat laughably fast. 

“I need security in here as quietly as possible,” Natasha said.

For a second, Darcy thought she was talking to her before she remembered the comms. If she ever got caught up in this kind of craziness again, she was demanding one for herself. It sucked only hearing half of the conversation. She really hoped this was the last time she ever had to get this close to an Avengers situation, though.

“Bitch! Get off of me!” Sofia screeched, trying to buck Natasha off of her. 

Natasha grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. "I'm the bitch? I applaud your sapphic motivations for originality, but you're the one who just tried to kidnap my friend at gunpoint. _Bitch._ Now keep your voice down or I’ll gag you.”

Darcy snorted out a laugh and Natasha let her murderous expression slip just long enough to share a small smile with her. She felt a little bad laughing at Sofia, though. This whole thing reeked of bad choices made in a desperate situation. 

“You know,” Darcy said, leaning down to catch Sofia’s eye, “if Volta goes to jail, Felicity would probably have a pretty easy time getting a divorce.”

“What good does that do me if I am also in jail?” Sofia asked. She sounded so bitter and defeated and she’d stopped trying to throw Natasha off. 

“That’s between you and your lawyers, but at least she’d be free of him, right? And just think how much less damage he’d do behind bars. How many women he personally would no longer be able to hurt.”

It was hard to tell if anything Darcy said made an impact with Sofia’s face all smushed against the tile floor, but Sofia didn’t come back with any more arguments against it. Darcy hoped she’d at least give it some thought because unless Volta was really, really stupid and appeared out of the shadows like Dracula to try and seize her himself, most of this night’s shenanigans would only serve as evidence in a larger investigation against him.

An armed hotel security officer came in, slapping an out-of-order sign on the door as he entered, and Natasha relaxed her grip enough to let Sofia get to her feet. 

“Just hold her for now, I’ll send officers to come and get her once everything else is over,” she said. 

The man agreed, looking a little starstruck, and Sofia allowed him to lead her out, her hands zip-tied behind her back, but her chin held high. Darcy sighed to herself watching her go. Even if she didn’t testify against Volta, there was still a gaggle of bad guys outside and maybe one of them would talk. 

Wanda slipped in after they were gone and wrapped Darcy in a quick hug. “I’m sorry, she cleared our earlier vetting of hotel guests so I thought she was okay to let in, but then you were taking too long. I should have just followed you in.”

Poor thing looked wracked with guilt. Sure, it could have gone very badly if Sofia had been just a touch more ruthless, but what was done was done. Over Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha looked pissed, but didn’t say anything. Darcy wasn’t thrilled with how things went either, but she wasn’t about to lay the blame solely at Wanda’s feet.

“It’s okay. I had my taser, I had the tracker, and I knew you were right outside. It got a little tense there at the end, but I’m fine.” Her hands were shaking now that the adrenaline was wearing off, but if she just kept them hidden in the folds of her skirt, they didn’t have to know that. 

“It was way too close,” Natasha said, frowning at her. “Next time, shoot first and let the villain monologue once they’re already tied up.”

Darcy nodded. “That’s good advice. I will totally take it to heart. But what if we just don’t have a next time?”

“We’re still moving forward with Plan A since no one outside has changed positions. Either Sofia was working separately from them or they don’t know she’s failed yet. You’re due outside in,” she checked her watch, “three minutes. Better check in with Clint first, though. He’s absolutely beside himself out there.”

There was a pause, then Wanda gasped and she and Natasha both turned to her, Wanda looking delighted and Natasha, cautiously thrilled.

“What?” Darcy asked with a wary glance between them.

“Nothing,” Natasha said quickly. “Hey, how do you feel about the Catskills?”

“I hear they’re pretty?” Darcy said, bewildered.

“Clint, stop yelling,” Wanda said with a wince and put her hand to her ear. “You had better get out there Darcy. Please just kiss the hell out of him so he shuts up.”

Out in the hall, Clint was waiting right outside the door, practically vibrating with nervous energy. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips, then just pressed his face to hers. Darcy breathed in the spicy scent of his aftershave and felt all of her jangled nerves settle. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Ask me again after this next part.” She ran her hands up and down his back soothingly since he seemed to need the reassurance a lot more than she did at the moment. 

“Fuck the next part. One gun pointed at you is enough for one night.”

“It’s enough for a lifetime to be honest,” Darcy said, blowing out a gusty breath. “We’re not done yet, though.”

“It’s almost over, Clint,” Natasha said quietly. “Let’s just get this over with and get as many of these guys as we can before they realize they’ve bitten off more than they can chew and run.”

Clint let her go reluctantly with one last kiss and the three of them walked her as far as the lobby before they all split off to take up their different positions. Darcy waited for a count of sixty, then took a deep breath and brought her phone to her ear and headed out the front door. 

Show time.

* * *

“I got two approaching from the southeast.”

“Mustache and Baldy are still sitting in their car.”

“They must just be back-up.”

“The driver of the van just started the engine.”

“Sorry, buddy, you won’t be needing that.”

“Does the guy in the bushes actually think he’s hiding? This is just sad.”

“I have Darcy exiting through the front doors now.” 

“Eyes up, everybody,” Cap said sharply.

The team’s chatter cut out abruptly and Clint watched from his vantage point in the shadow of an air conditioning unit on the roof as Darcy had a very convincing fight with her mom on the phone. She paced back and forth a few times in front of the valet stand, then wandered, seemingly at random toward the parking lot. Bush Boy got up from his crouch behind the landscaping and followed her. She looked distracted, but they had rehearsed this part enough times that he knew she was just reaching for her taser. He knew it, but it didn’t make him breathe any easier. 

“Two more holding under a tree, ten feet to her left,” Barnes said. 

“I’ve got them,” Clint said. They were boxing her in. Fucking ridiculous amount of muscle to capture one woman, but they clearly didn’t expect her to be alone. 

Darcy passed the tree and the thugs under it with an idle glance their way, but no one made a move for her and she walked on further into the parking lot, still holding up her end of the fake argument.

“That should have been it. What are we missing?” Banner said, voicing what they were all thinking. Nothing about this night was going as planned. 

“I don’t know, but she’s gonna run out of things to talk about pretty soon if they don’t go for this,” Wilson said. He was circling high overhead, his wings nothing but a faint whine that blended in with the nearby traffic noises.

“Give it another minute,” Cap said.

At the end of the row she’d been walking down, Darcy stopped and pushed a button on a key fob. A sedan they’d rented for just this purpose flashed its lights and popped its trunk. The next step was for Darcy to root around in the trunk for a while, then turn back to the hotel, and if no one made a move in that time, they’d call the mission a bust. 

Everyone was in place, though. Bush Boy was still weaving between cars and following her just out of sight. The tree guys were still smoking and shooting the shit in what sounded like Polish. The pair that had parked on the street and approached from the southeast were circling around the lot without any apparent aim in mind. 

Darcy bent over the open trunk, her phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder while she reached for absolutely nothing. Maybe they should have thrown a few bags in there for realism. Bush Boy approached, moving fast, and Cap piped up sternly in his ear. 

“Let him do it, Clint.”

Clint swore, but held his bow steady, and watched as his girlfriend—his real, not faking it, actually his fucking girlfriend of maybe half an hour—got bundled into the trunk of the rental. She screamed, but didn't struggle much except thrash around in his arms. They'd gone over this part a lot too. She had to struggle at least a little bit to make it look realistic, but no one wanted these guys getting mad enough that they hurt her to subdue her. Bush Boy snatched her phone out of her hand and threw it on the ground before closing the trunk. Aw man, she loved her phone. 

The second the trunk was closed, Clint released his bow string and watched much more satisfyingly as one of his putty arrows hit at the guy's feet, trapping him in place. That stuff took forever to get out of and he wouldn't be going anywhere until the police showed up. 

Bush Boy hollered for help and the rest of the thugs moved in. The van pulled up even with Bush Boy and he and the driver had a loud conversation with a lot of hand-waving. A couple of guys hopped out of the back and started pulling on Bush Boy's arms, but they couldn't budge him. Appearing dramatically from behind a nearby truck, Steve smashed one and then the other with his shield.

Baldy and Moustache finally got out of their car and Baldy opened fire at Cap. Wilson dropped in, his wings shielding Cap just in time, then he spun and launched back into the air, diving straight for them, his pistols leading the way. From the roof of a hotel across the street where Barnes was posted up, two well-placed bullets hit the hood of the van. Smoke started pouring out and with his vehicle now worthless, the driver hopped out and went for the sedan. Clint wondered exactly where he thought he was going to take it since the van and Bush Boy were both blocking it in, but they were clearly panicking. 

The rest of the thugs converged on the scene more or less all at the same time and that's when things really got interesting. Vision and Wanda flew in from the south, bullets phasing through Vision and Wanda lifted up the two thugs who had dared to fire at her shnookums in an immobilizing sphere of red energy. She jerked her hand and they flew up ten feet, then smashed into the concrete. The last two guys tried to run, just as Natasha had predicted, but Clint fired his new shock net arrow and they both dropped, screaming obscenities, but unable to move. The van driver, still trying to follow through on the plan, opened the sedan's driver's side door and got a kick to the face from Natasha for his trouble. 

All told, it was over pretty fast, and Darcy stayed curled up in the trunk the whole time like they'd told her to. Once everyone in Volta's crew was subdued, Steve radioed for the police to join them and they converged on the scene from where they had been holding a perimeter in unmarked rides. Feeling like the stairs would take way too long, Clint shot a grapple arrow into the trunk of a nearby tree and used his bow to zip down.

"There was an elevator fifty feet behind you," Barnes grumbled. "You're gonna have to go back to retrieve the line."

All true, but like hell he was waiting an extra second to get to Darcy's side. He hit the ground running and made it to the sedan in what felt like an instant and a lifetime all at once and then he was dodging around Bush Boy, who the cops were trying to cut loose but just getting more and more stuck themselves. 

"You're gonna want some acetone to dissolve that," he said, absently.

Clint ignored the sour-faced thanks the officer gave him and tapped on the car trunk. "Darcy, honey, you can come out now."

The trunk popped and then Darcy was looking up at him with a mixture of worry and anger, the key fob still in her hand and her taser held menacingly in the other. "Did that asshole break my phone?"

Clint looked around and found it halfway under the car next to theirs. The screen was cracked and scratched up from the parking lot grit and he handed it to her with an apologetic look. “We’ll get you a new one first thing tomorrow.”

“You’re damn straight you will. I want the newest model, too.”

Clint did not have a thousand bucks to drop on a phone right now—or ever—but he could probably con Stark into sending down one of his newest do-hickeys.

“Whatever you want. Let’s get you out of there, huh?”

She looped her arms around his neck and he lifted her out of the trunk. He carried her the length of the parking lot, away from all of the police and his team trying to explain everything that went down. 

“I can walk, you know,” Darcy said.

“Do you want to?”

“No,” she said snuggling in close. “Just wanted to say it in case I was getting heavy.”

“You’re not heavy and I’m not letting you go until you tell me to.” There were a couple benches tucked into a tiny rose garden off to the side and Clint sat, holding Darcy to him on his lap. 

“Why is there a cable running from the roof to the that tree? I don’t remember that part of the plan.”

“Huh. Not sure.”

“Clint, there’s an arrow sticking out of the tree.”

Clint squinted at it, like he couldn’t see it perfectly clearly, even with nothing but the shitty sodium street lamps for illumination. “No, I think that’s just a stick.”

“You zip-lined down from the roof, didn’t you?”

Steve came over just in time to save him from having to answer. “We got a lead on Volta’s whereabouts from the driver of the van, so we’re heading out now to check it out.”

Clint’s hands tightened around Darcy’s waist. “If you try and make me leave right now, I quit.”

“What?” Steve asked, shocked. “No, I was just going to say that after you both give your statements, you’re done for the night.”

“Oh thank God, I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Clint said, blowing out a relieved sigh. He’d meant it, but it was always nice to not have to follow through on some of his dumber impulse decisions. 

Steve still looked rattled, but he nodded sharply at them and turned to go. Only a few steps away, he turned back. “Oh, and hotel staff asked if you could take down the zip line. Apparently it’s a safety hazard.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Darcy said.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

“Was it fun?” Darcy asked once Steve was gone, staring up at the line. “I’ve never been zip lining.”

“Generally speaking, it’s a blast. This time, all I was thinking about was getting to you. ”

That got him a soft look and a deep, lingering kiss, so obviously the zip line had been a good idea, even if he was going to have to climb a tree to get it down later. Even if, when later actually came, he might have fallen out of said tree, nearly breaking his goddamn neck and making Darcy laugh until she was gasping for breath. Maybe especially then.

* * *

There was darkness all around her and the sound of bullets close enough to hear them crack the air with their speed. Darcy pressed the buttons on the key fob in her hand, but nothing happened. It was supposed to work, why wasn’t it working? She groped for the trunk release lever, but her hands just scraped uselessly on the carpeting. She gasped for breath and scratched harder at the sides of the trunk, but they were getting farther away. 

"Darcy. Wake up, Darcy. It's just a dream."

She surfaced from the nightmare, but had a hard time letting go of her panic when the darkness of the trunk only became the darkness of their hotel room. She could feel Clint holding onto her, could hear him breathing in the dark, but couldn't make out more than a rough outline of him against the shadows.

"Can you turn the light on?"

She felt him roll away from her and then the room brightened and Darcy finally felt the tightness in her chest ease.

"You okay?" Clint asked.

"Yeah? I don’t know, maybe.” She rubbed hard at her eyes and concentrated on breathing.

“Come here,” he said and gathered her in close so she could lay her head on his chest.

“Sorry I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.”

She turned to look up at him and frowned at the guarded look he had on his face. “Did you have a nightmare too?”

“Can’t have a nightmare if you never go to sleep.” His lips quirked up in a poor attempt at a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Not sleeping’s pretty normal for me.”

“Do you not want to talk about it because you just don’t want to talk about it, or because of that thing I said earlier about not wanting to be your therapist? I know I’ve been pretty shitty about this sort of thing, but you _can_ talk to me.” 

“There’s really nothing to talk about. I have PTSD. Insomnia’s one of the main ways it manifests for me. Some nights I get a few hours, some nights I don’t sleep at all.”

“Oh.” Mark another thing down on the list of stuff she’d probably already know if she hadn’t been such a commitment-phobic asshole. 

“You wanna try and sleep again?”

Darcy shook her head and laid it down on Clint’s chest again. She was feeling calmer now, but she could still remember the dream vividly and she had a feeling she’d end up right back in that trunk the second she closed her eyes. 

“Tell me about the circus.”

“What do you wanna hear?”

“I don’t know, anything. Did you guys have animals? What did your costume look like? What was it like travelling from town to town all the time?”

“Yes, kind of ridiculous, and after a while, every town looked the same.”

“Come on, please?” She definitely didn’t want to try sleeping again, she didn’t want to try finding something to watch on TV at this hour, and now that she’d landed on the subject, she really wanted to hear about it. 

Clint sighed and carded his hand through her hair. “Okay, so we had this elephant, Lucy, right? She used to give rides to kids for a coupla bucks a pop until she got too old and it was time to give her over to a zoo for retirement.”

Listening to Clint recount the tale of the depressed elephant handler’s drunken ramble through the middle of a clown act, Darcy finally felt herself relax. The night had been objectively awful and the next day promised to suck too, but at least now she had someone around to stroke her hair and tell her funny stories at the end of the awful days. She still wasn't sure it would balance all the bad shit dating a superhero would bring, but there was only one way to know that for sure and in the meantime, she might as well let her self enjoy every bit of good it could bring.


	20. Chapter 20

The two of them had drifted off around dawn, their voices scratchy from talking and the long hours of being awake. But while Darcy slept soundly, Clint found himself waking every twenty minutes, some not quite right feeling itching at him and making it hard to get any rest. Around 8, Clint just gave up and put his hearing aids back in and scrolled through Reddit on his phone while he waited for Darcy to wake up. He'd just settled into a good thread about dogs who saved their owners lives when there was a quiet knock on the door. Clint sighed and scooped a pair of boxers off the floor to see who it was.

On the other side was Steve, looking like he'd gotten about as much sleep as Clint had, but was at least trying to cover it up with a shower and a fresh shirt. Clint slipped out into the hall, keeping his hand wedged in the door so he wouldn't get locked out. 

"Hey, how'd it go?" No earthly power was going to drag him away from Darcy last night, but part of the reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep was that he’d been waiting on some kind of update and fighting the annoyance that no one had bothered to at least text him. 

"The first location was a decoy, but the detectives got Sofia to talk and we were able to confirm Volta's location a couple hours ago."

"Why does that not sound like he's in custody?" All of this bullshit and they were gonna just let the guy slip through their fingers?

"We had to wait for someone to wake up a judge for the warrant and then the PD needed to brief their strike team. He's being watched, but they don't want to move on it until tonight. They want to try and take him unaware."

"He has to know he's a target by now. There's no way he'll just sit around and wait for the cops to come and get him."

"Could be he's too arrogant to think he's in any danger. Either way, we have too many eyes on him right now for him to go anywhere without us knowing."

That at least was some consolation. It wasn’t the good news he wanted to give Darcy, but sometimes you had to sit back and let the cops do their jobs, especially the parts that were buried in paperwork. God knew he didn’t want to do that part.

"Yeah, alright. So we're good?"

"I think so, but I'd stay close. Everyone who we identified as working for Volta was either arrested last night or is currently under surveillance, but we got surprised by Sofia last night. Maybe we missed someone else.”

“Or he could have hired local for another attempt and there's still Karlsson.” Volta could have made just as many contingencies as they had and Clint knew they couldn't plan for all of them. They couldn’t really know it was over until Volta was reliably separated from his money and his contacts.

“True, but Sofia confirmed for us that Volta fired Karlsson in Monaco. So whatever he’s here for, it’s not on Volta’s say so. Natasha said she lost all sign of him once he got into the States. Who knows, maybe he’s just looking for a new life.” 

“I’d wish him happy trails, but I doubt he’s looking to open a laundromat and live the quiet life.”

Steve nodded, exhaustion creeping in around the edges of his wry smile. “I’d planned on taking everyone home since Volta’s capture is now officially out of our hands, but if you’re nervous, we can stick around."

Nervous wasn't the word Clint would use. Cautious. Guarded. Vigilant. One of those would work. Alright, fine, he was nervous. Couldn’t spend your whole life on high alert though. That kind of thing made a person crazy.

"We can’t have the whole team trailing us all weekend. Darcy doesn't want her parents knowing about any of this and we already attracted too much attention with the firefight last night."

"We knew they'd be armed. I think we did a good job locking down the scene despite that."

"Still made local news though, didn't it? Not that we were there, but that something happened."

"It could have been cleaner," Steve admitted. 

"Hey, is that Steve?" Darcy called from inside the room.

Ducking his head back inside, Clint saw her sitting up in bed with the sheet clutched to her chest, her hair all sleep-tousled. Why was he still talking to Steve again?

"Yeah, just going over last night. We're about done."

"No, wait!" She jumped out of bed, taking the sheet with her, and wrapped it around herself, looking the Greek goddess of lazy morning sex.

She pushed past him in the doorway and leveled a pissed off glare at Steve. Steve, who couldn't even look at her, although it was hard to tell if it was more from shame over last night going pear-shaped or embarrassment over her lack of clothes. Clint figured both of those things were working in her favor right now. 

"Hey, Darcy. Sorry we woke you up. I'll let Clint give you all the details, but I wanted to bring you this, too,” he said, holding out a phone.

A shiny new Starkphone should have brightened her mood considerably, but after a quick glance at the screen, Darcy turned her glare back full force on Steve. 

“So we’re done now, right?”

Steve looked at him like he was hoping Clint would jump in and rescue him. The guy could face down Hydra agents and flying alien whales without flinching but he couldn’t face the disappointment of one woman who didn’t even come up to his chin with shoes on. Not that Clint would've an easier time dealing with Darcy’s anger, but he hadn’t been stupid enough to be the cause of it yet. Clint would’ve paid actual money to see this though, so there was no way he was getting in the way of a free show. Instead he just leaned against the door jam and let his girl do her thing.

“For the most part,” Steve said once he realized Clint wasn’t going to be any help. “As long as Clint is there, you should be fine to go see your parents today.”

“Great. Now promise me this is never going to happen again and promise you’re never going to drag another regular person into one of your Avengers schemes.”

Steve nodded to himself like he’d known this was coming. If that was the case, Darcy shouldn’t have had to ask for the promise, but maybe it was harder to admit you were wrong when you spent so much of your life being so righteously right. Clint wouldn’t know.

“I promise,” Steve said finally looking Darcy right in the eye.

“Good. I want an apology for what happened in the bathroom, too.”

That was enough to drag Clint into the conversation. Last night, he and Darcy had gone over every tiny decision the team—and more specifically Wanda—had made that had led to Darcy being left alone with Sofia. She’d told him she understood and she wasn’t mad at Wanda, so why was she bringing it up again now?

“Darcy, Wanda made—” Clint began, but he shut up fast after nothing more than a sharp look from her. He wasn’t about to give her another target for that laser beam gaze she had going on.

Steve shook his head. “No, she’s right. Wanda should have been more careful and it was my job to make sure she was. I’m sorry, Darcy.”

“And I want a raise, with back pay for the last few weeks. I wasn’t joking about that.”

“I don’t handle your pay,” Steve said, totally baffled by that request. Clint was a little curious what she thought he could do about it, too.

“No, Jane does. And she allocates as much as she reasonably can so that we both have a livable wage from her three year Stark grant, which is directly funded by your buddy and semi-retired Avenger, Iron Man.”

That got a nod of understanding from Steve. “I’ll talk to him about upping your funding. That all?”

Darcy thought it over, probably wanting to make sure she was milking his contritious attitude for all it was worth. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Can I have a raise?” Clint asked, and at Steve’s aggrieved look, added, “I mean, if you’re just handing them out. My girlfriend was threatened at gunpoint last night. I’m emotionally traumatized. Doesn’t that deserve some compensation?”

“We all know she’s your girlfriend, you don’t have to keep saying it,” Steve said. He looked like he really regretted even knocking on their door at this point. 

“Yeah, I do,” Clint said. 

He grabbed her around the waist, causing the sheet to slip a little. Not enough to really expose anything, but enough that Steve got a little pink in the cheeks and beat a hasty retreat. Clint hadn’t been trying for that response, but he liked the results just fine. They had one more hour before they had to be at her parents’ house and a closed door between them and the rest of the world.

“You're really beating people over the head with that aren't you?" Darcy asked, letting the sheet slip the rest of the way.

"Yeah. I can stop." He could stop saying it out loud, probably. The thought was still banging around his head and lighting it up like a pinball machine. 

"I don't mind as long as your girlfriend gets some breakfast soon,” she said, bending to dig through her bag for some clothes.

Clint tilted his head to better appreciate the view. "Thinkin' about eating, but can't say it's breakfast I want."

She paused in her search and turned to catch his eye. "I could probably make do with grabbing a really big coffee on the way."

* * *

After a hasty check-out and a stop at Dunkin for an iced coffee the size of her head, Darcy finally got a few minutes to check out her new phone. A flood of missed texts from Vanessa and calls from her mother greeted her and Darcy groaned in dismay. Clint took his eyes off the road long enough to shoot her a questioning look.

"Everyone inside the hotel heard all of the gunfire last night and Vanessa was freaking out because she couldn't find me," Darcy explained, simultaneously firing off a quick text saying she was fine and would call her later.

"Makes sense. We probably should have put in an appearance after everything was over but I kind of forgot all about it once the action started."

"Yeah, me too.”

They’d dutifully delivered their statements to the police and then gone straight to their room to properly celebrate their change in relationship status. All thoughts of the reunion had been completely driven from Darcy’s head by a happy little thrum of _boyfriend-boyfriend-boyfriend_ that was still a pleasant background noise to her thoughts this morning.

“Anyway, she called my mom," Darcy said, and right on cue, Clint turned on to her street.

Birch Lane hadn't changed much since Darcy had last visited. The Chouinards had painted their front door blue instead of red, the Tortoricis had a spiffy new Audi in the driveway, and Mrs. Baker’s lawn had gotten away from her since her husband died. Other than that, everything was the same quiet suburban bliss she’d grown up with. 

They pulled up in front of her childhood home and Darcy felt a frisson of dissonance at not parking in the driveway. She hadn't lived there in ten years but returning as a visitor still felt as wrong as it had her first time back from Culver. 

"How much trouble are we looking at?" Clint asked, turning off the car.

Something in his voice gave her pause. "No, I’m not in trouble, they’re just worried.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” 

He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Darcy wasn’t going to press him on it. For once, not because she didn't want to hear about it, but because there wasn't time to get into whatever was making his expression not sit straight on his face. She squeezed his hand, knowing he needed the reassurance, even if she didn’t know why.

"Don’t worry about it. My mom will fuss a little and my dad will act like nothing happened and then we’ll _all_ act like nothing happened. We Lewises are great at that." She'd just get the guilt trip of a lifetime once her mom got her alone. "But if you notice a weird vibe like there's something everyone's not talking about, it's not about last night. We've got drama that goes way back."

"You mean like your dad knocking up his secretary or something else?”

Darcy gaped at him in shock. "How did you—Did you run background checks on my family?"

"I feel like I'm gonna get in trouble if I answer that honestly,” Clint said, like he was just now realizing you shouldn’t do a deep dive into someone’s personal history without their permission.

"Okay, just this once, you get a pass on being a privacy-invading weirdo because it saves time and my mom's totally watching us through the window.” Darcy waved at the house and the curtain in the living room window twitched. “But yeah, I meant David. He’s been living with my parents since his divorce and I think they’re all just barely hanging onto civility at this point."

“Anything else you want to warn me about?”

“I don’t think so? Should just be a usual meet the parents type of visit. I’m sure you’ve done that before.” 

“Nope.”

“But—” Darcy wrinkled her brow at him, confused. “Didn’t you say you were divorced? You didn’t meet your ex-wife’s family?”

“She’s got a mom and a brother out in San Diego I talked to on the phone one time, but the whole thing was kinda,” Clint twirled his hand around, “whirlwind. We were technically married for like ten years, but only together maybe six months before we separated.”

Darcy had to press her lips together to keep all of the questions she had about that from tumbling out. She’d told Clint she wanted to know him and it was like her brain had been given permission to hyperfixate. Suddenly she just had to know everything about him. He took one look at her, cracked a grin, and got out of the car and Darcy didn’t have any choice but to get out too.

“You can ask me whatever you want about Bobbi later,” he said as they made their way up the front walk. “Let’s just get through this first.”

Taking a deep breath to refocus, Darcy opened the front door and walked into chaos. The TV was blaring and her mom was standing right in front of it, watching a news report about last night’s shootout between police and what the anchor was calling suspected mafia members. David and the girls were grouped behind the couch and everyone was yelling at top volume to be heard over the TV.

“Daddy can I pleeeeease bring the iPad? I promise I’ll only use it in the car. I just wanna finish this one episode.”

“No.”

“Netflix won’t even work in the car. You’re so stupid.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Bianca, you’re right, but don’t call your sister stupid.”

From upstairs, her dad yelled down, “Dana, have you seen my brown belt?” 

“It’s in the closet!”

“I’m looking in the closet!”

The TV muted, leaving a ringing silence, and Darcy’s mom came over with a gracious smile and shook hands with Clint. “Hello, you must be Clint. You’ll have to forgive us, things are a bit hectic this morning. You see, we were up late last night hoping to hear from our daughter."

Darcy sighed. Loudly. Apparently this was going to be like the time she'd—completely on accident—forgotten to say she was crashing at a friend's house the summer after her freshman year at college. She tried to remind herself that the reaction would be so much worse if they knew what had actually happened.

"Please make yourself at home while I go help my husband out," her mom went on, perfectly pleasant but still refusing to even look at Darcy. "We'll get going in just a minute. It's so wonderful that you're able to come with us to the zoo today. I hope we're not getting in the way of your Avengers duties."

"No, no, Cap cut me loose for the weekend. Thanks for letting me tag along, Mrs. Lewis."

Darcy's mom giggled. "Oh, listen to you! Call me Dana, please."

Darcy stared as her mother walked past her without so much as hello and went upstairs to deal with her dad’s belt situation. It was always so much fun when her mom went with the silent treatment as punishment. Choosing to just roll with it for the time being, she pointed out her nieces to Clint.

“So the older one is Bianca and that’s Emma. Wait, do you already know all this?”

“No?”

Darcy rolled her eyes at him and was suddenly knocked off balance by her two squealing nieces hugging her around the middle. She staggered, but managed to keep her feet under her and hugged them back.

“Aunt Darcy! You came! Grandma said you were probably dead,” Bianca said.

“You didn’t believe her, did you?”

“No, I figured she was just being dramatic.”

“Good call,” Darcy said, nodding seriously. “Hey, you guys wanna meet an Avenger?”

Emma gasped so loudly it was almost a scream. “Yes! Is it Captain America? Ohmygod, ohmygod, is it _Black Widow_?”

“Nope, not this time but maybe I could get one of them to sign a picture for you or something.” Darcy motioned to Clint next to her. “Guys, this is Hawkeye, but you can call him Clint.”

The girls exchanged a doubtful look, then Bianca asked, “So you know Black Widow?”

“Yep. She’s my best friend, actually.”

“Your best friend is a girl?” Emma asked with an adorable little head tilt.

“Sure. Don’t you have any friends that are boys?”

“No way. All the boys I know ever talk about is Minecraft and they pick their boogers and _eat_ them. They don’t even try to hide it.”

Clint nodded like he was being imparted with sage wisdom. “Boys are pretty gross. I guess that’s why all my favorite people are girls.”

“So why would Black Widow be friends with you?” Bianca asked.

“Takes pity on me, I guess. Hey, I got a video of her sparring with the Winter Soldier. You guys wanna see it?”

“Does she win?”

Clint scoffed. “Of course.”

The three of them went over to the couch to watch and Darcy jerked her chin in greeting at David, who had been watching that extremely cute exchange with a sneer on his face. Because heaven forbid people actually enjoy the children he helped bring into this world. He certainly never did.

“How’s Lisa? She letting you see the dog yet?” 

All that got her was a glare and David left for the kitchen just as her mother came stomping down the stairs, still avoiding Darcy’s eyes. Normally Darcy would just wait her out when she was acting like this, but she didn't want their silent fight hanging over them all day. Better to just get the groveling over with.

“Mom, I’m really, really sorry if you were worried. My phone broke last night during everything and I had to wait until this morning to get a new one and I promise, I was never in any danger.” Her mother just stared at her silently, one eyebrow arched in disbelief, so Darcy kept babbling. “And even if I had been, I had Clint with me, so I would’ve been—”

Her mom suddenly hugged her fiercely and Darcy hugged back, sagging into her mom’s shoulder and breathing in her perfume. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed that, but sometimes there was no substitute for a hug from your mom, even when your mom was doing her best to remind you she was a complicated, contradictory human being. After a long embrace that must have done a good job soothing more than just Darcy’s nerves, her mom sniffed and took a step back, straightening her shirt.

“Why would I be worried? I was only woken up from a dead sleep to hear that my only child had been at the scene of a shooting and was _missing_." Sure, she was ranting again, but it was more of a light tease now than a real lecture. "I was up all night waiting for a text, a call, anything. Listen to me, I’m turning into my mother-in-law.” 

“Your mother-in-law was a wonderful woman and so are you,” her dad said, coming down the stairs. 

Darcy accepted a kiss on the cheek from her dad while she and her mom exchanged a look. Nana had been five foot nothing with enough personality to fill the Washington Monument and all of her wonderful parts could have fit inside a thimble. 

“So where’s this hero of yours?” her dad asked.

“Oh, uh…” Darcy raised her eyebrows at Clint and he hurriedly passed his phone off to the girls and rushed to her side. “Dad, this is Clint. Clint, this is my dad, Ben.”

"So tell me, Clint. You make a living doing this superhero thing, right?"

"Yes, sir."

Darcy’s dad grinned, but there was a sharpness to it that made Darcy close her eyes briefly in despair and edge closer to Clint. He'd already made his mind up about Clint before they even walked in the house. Picking up on the same vibe Darcy was, Dana looped her hand through her husband's arm and squeezed, a silent reminder to behave himself. 

"Sir!" Ben laughed, fake and loud and just a tinge of mocking. "The only people who call me sir are the kids at school when I call them into the office when they've done something wrong. You haven't done anything wrong, have you?"

Clint's smile was just as sharp. "Not today, but it's still early."

"So this hero gig, where does it put you when stuff like last night happens?"

There was no good answer to that question and Darcy could see Clint about to walk right into her dad’s trap. If he said he didn’t want to get involved, then he wasn’t doing his job right, but if he had gotten involved, then he was abandoning Darcy in a dangerous situation. 

“Well, it depends on the situation,” Clint said, looking totally unruffled. “Last night I was on the roof in a sniper position. Once I was sure Darcy was in a secure location, of course.”

Impressed at how smoothly he’d pulled off that lie by omission, Darcy didn’t even try to hide her proud smile. They’d interpret it as her just being proud of her cool new superhero boyfriend, when really she was just glad he’d managed to avoid getting stumped by her dad. Her dad wasn’t nearly as impressed, but before he could try to come up with some other impossible no-win scenario, they were interrupted by a phone ringing.

“Clint? Someone named Hawkeye is calling you? I thought you were Hawkeye,” Bianca said, holding up his phone. 

“I am. There are two of us.” Clint took the phone and swiped to answer it. “Hey Kate, can I call you back? Now’s not—”

There was some tinny yelling over the line that Darcy could hear even across the room even though she couldn’t make out what Kate was yelling about.

“Katie, slow down. What’s happening?”

More tinny yelling. Something about sharks? 

“Girls,” Darcy’s mom said, “we’re leaving in a minute. Go get your shoes on, will you?”

Bianca and Emma both ran upstairs and Darcy and her parents all looked at each other awkwardly while Clint's expression turned from confused to intensely focused. 

He turned to Darcy and said, "Stay right there, I’ll be right back!" Then he ran out of the house. 

Darcy and her mom rushed to the window and watched as Clint, still talking to Kate on the phone, retrieved his bow and quiver from the trunk of the car. 

"What on Earth is he doing?" 

"I have no idea," Darcy said.

A star-shaped portal opened up behind Clint. A young Latina woman in a star-spangled hoodie stuck her upper body through the portal, grabbed Clint by the shoulder and yanked him back through the portal. It closed just as suddenly as it had opened.

“What. The fuck,” Darcy said, still staring at the empty space where Clint used to be.

"Whoa, what the hell are those?" David asked. 

They all turned to see what he was talking about and saw that the bland mid-morning news had been interrupted with a breaking live event. On screen, a pack of huge gray creatures with enormous teeth-filled jaws were running down a palm tree-lined avenue, a small purple figure on the back of the lead creature. David unmuted the TV and they were all hit with blaring sound before he quickly turned it down to a bearable volume.

"—appear to be some sort of shark hybrid. Residents of the Santa Monica area are advised to keep away from the beach and shelter in place until authorities are able to contain these dangerous creatures.

"A local private investigator named Kate Bishop, also known as the bow and arrow-wielding hero Hawkeye, is currently on the scene and as we can see, she and another as yet unidentified young man appear to be attempting to corral the creatures."

"Man, not even LA can get a break from weird shit," David said. "You probably have to move to Montana or something to really avoid it."

"Sure, but then you're in Montana," her dad said, grabbing a handful of the trail mix David had brought form the kitchen.

Back on the TV, they could see Clint pop out of another star-shaped portal that opened up in mid-air. He landed on the back of the same mutant shark Kate was on and immediately started shooting arrows. A net arrow here, a putty arrow there. He seemed to be trying to stick to non-lethal options for the moment. Portal girl flew next to them, punching any shark that came too close to any nearby humans, knocking it back dozens of feet every time.

“Who is _she_?” her mom asked.

Darcy shrugged. New heroes were popping up all the time. It got hard to keep track of all of them after a while and she was too preoccupied with watching Clint to put any thought into it anyway. It made her nervous seeing him out there fighting in only a t-shirt and jeans, but it wasn't like body armor would protect him from giant snapping teeth. 

“I guess lover boy's not coming with us to the zoo,” David said. He crunched down loudly on a handful of trail mix and Darcy gave him a dirty look. 

“He said he'd be right back,” Darcy said. She squinted at the TV, having trouble following his movements when the camera operator kept zooming in and out from where they were tracking the pack from a helicopter. "I told you this kind of thing could come up. It's not like he has standard working hours." 

Darcy’s dad gave her a loaded look. 

“Don’t say it,” she warned. 

He held up his hands in surrender and directed a shout up the stairs. “Hey girls, we doin’ the zoo, or what?” 

“Zoo! Zoo!” Emma screamed, tearing down the stairs. 

Bianca followed at a more sedate pace. “Daddy, pleeeease can I get a stuffed panda?” 

David rolled his eyes and popped a cashew in his mouth. “I don’t know, did your mom give you your allowance?” 

Bianca rolled her eyes back at him like a pro and flopped onto the couch with a huff. "What are you guys watching?" 

None of the adults answered her, not sure how to explain mutants sharks with legs rampaging through a beach community to a 7-year-old. On screen, Clint leapt off his shark, firing an exploding arrow at a piece of falling rubble as he flew through the air. The dust cloud obscured his landing and the camera followed Kate, who was leading the herd of land sharks back towards the water. 

“Wait, so she’s going to be in the water with a bunch of giant sharks?” David said. 

Just in the nick of time, Portal Girl flew over the herd and plucked Kate off the back of the lead shark. For a second, the camera operator seemed torn on whether they should follow the giant marine abominations or the heroes who had gotten rid of them, but the human interest angle must have won out. Darcy watched with considerable relief as Kate was deposited back on shore in front of Clint and another young man whose skin seemed to be fading from a metallic silver shade to a warm brown. The news report cut back to one of their talking heads and David reached to turn it off. 

Darcy closed her hand over the end of the remote to block the infrared sensor. “I’m not done watching, assface. They might do interviews.” 

“It’s bluetooth, shit-for-brains,” that didn’t stop him from trying to wrestle it out of her grip, though, “and your boyfriend didn’t even do anything. It was all the other Hawkeye.” 

“Were you even watching? He muzzled at least six of those things on his own.” 

Darcy’s mom grabbed the remote from David and turned off the TV. “Children, please. Now, we’re going to the zoo whether Clint gets zapped back or not, but Darcy, give him a call and see if he’s coming." 

Obediently, Darcy escaped out the front door so she could make her call, but it rang and rang and eventually went to the recording that said he’d never bothered to set up his voicemail. Maybe he was just still busy doing hero stuff and he couldn’t answer. She tried texting instead. 

**Hey, I know you’re busy, but my parents want to leave. Are you coming back?**

She waited impatiently, slapping the back of the phone against her thigh and willing it to vibrate with a notification. A few more long seconds went by and still nothing. She paced back and forth on the front porch and tried calling again, watching the empty street and willing Clint to pop back into existence. 

“Darcy, is he coming? We really have to get going,” her mom asked, poking her head out the front door. 

Darcy hesitated. “I’m not sure. He isn’t answering.” 

“Well we know he can get back in the house with those portals he was using. Leave a note for him and let’s get on the road. He can always catch up later.” 

“Maybe I should stay and wait for him.” She’d probably be fine. No one was going to be crazy enough to attack her at the National Zoo and she’d be surrounded by her family the whole time. She wouldn’t be dumb enough to isolate herself for even a second like she had last night. Still, she didn’t feel right going somewhere without her personal bodyguard. 

“He’s got however long it takes Emma to go to the bathroom and then we’re leaving.” 

It didn’t feel right. Maybe it was lingering anxiousness from the night before, but something told her leaving without Clint was a bad idea. Even being out here on the porch felt exposed. Her mom was never going to buy any of her excuses though. Not any of the lies anyway. Maybe it was time to come clean and tell her what was really going on. 

“Mom, I—” 

Just then, a portal opened up on the front lawn and Clint came striding out of it, appealingly streaked with dust and sweat and one of the sleeves of his shirt torn off. The relief that swept through Darcy at seeing him was enough to make her lightheaded. Not only did she immediately feel more comfortable just having him nearby, but now she would be saved a massive lecture from her mom too. 

Darcy’s mom put a hand to her chest, and uttered a quiet, “oh my!” 

Darcy slid her eyes to her mom and muttered, “get a hold of yourself.” 

“Sorry about that. I promise I’m free now,” Clint said. 

“Well, we were just about to head out, but of course you’ll need to get changed,” her mom said. Bianca and Emma pushed past them and went running out to the car. “Why don’t you two catch up when you’re ready?” 

Darcy huffed in outrage. She couldn’t manage getting a five minute delay approved, but Clint flashes a little bicep and suddenly it’s all “take all the time you need!” If her mom offered to make her famous chess bars before the end of the night, they were out of there. 

They waved the rest of her family off and went inside and the second the door was closed, Clint crowded her up against the foyer wall, kissing the hell out of her and making her weak in the knees. Darcy tore away from him, gasping for breath, and looked up at him in amazement. 

“What was that for?” 

He grinned and shrugged and kissed her again. “I don’t know, just in a good mood. I got to shoot some weird land sharks and save some really stubborn health nuts who should know better than to do their morning run in the middle of something like that.” 

“You hero types. Always horny for saving people.” 

And that was really the draw for him, Darcy realized. Not the horniness, of course, but that when all of the arguing over other people’s decisions was stripped away, Clint really loved his job. Being the one to save people from weird, bad, scary situations made him _happy_. And as much as it sucked being the one to sit back and watch him put himself in those weird, bad, scary situations, there was no way around it if she wanted to be with him. Not if she wanted him to be happy. 

Clint chuckled and leaned his forehead on hers. “Yeah, your dad already hates me though, so I guess we better get a move on.” 

“He does,” Darcy said, nodding very seriously. “Which means there isn’t much of his good opinion left to lose if we’re a little late, right?” 

“It’s not like the animals are going anywhere,” Clint said hopefully. 

Drawing him down for another kiss, Darcy thought back to Jane telling her that post-battle sex wasn’t worth all the waiting and worry, but it was at least a nice perk. She’d been right. As nice as it was, just this wasn’t enough for Darcy to keep putting herself through all the stress of being a superhero’s girlfriend. But finally understanding just how happy the work made him, that made it a little easier to bear. 


	21. Chapter 21

There was a persistent crick in Clint’s neck from letting Emma ride around on his shoulders most of the day and he had a low grade headache from choosing his words so carefully, but spending the day with Darcy’s family hadn’t been as bad as Jane had said it would be. Sure, Ben and David were both self-important windbags, but that just meant they spent most of the time trying to outdo each other on complaining about work. And Dana micromanaged every aspect of the trip, right down to the kind of side Darcy and the kids got with their lunches, but he and Darcy traded a few of her carrots for some of his chips when her mom wasn’t looking. 

On the ride back to her parents’ Darcy groaned as she tugged her boots off and then put her feet up on the dash. “I always forget that zoo is just one big hill. You think you could rub my feet for me tonight, or are you one of those people who think feet are gross?”

“Sure, I’m neutral on feet.” Clint said distractedly as someone merged in front of him, nearly taking off their front bumper. His phone buzzed with a notification in the center console, but he didn't dare look in this traffic. “Will you check that for me? It might be Steve.”

“Nope, it’s Kate. Still want me to read it?”

Clint just unlocked it with a press of his thumb on the fingerprint scanner and handed it to her. Some people got squirrely about having someone else look at their phone but he didn't use his enough to have anything on there to be worried about.

There was a pause and then Darcy let out a surprised laugh. “It’s a flyer for superhero recruitment. She’s even got the little tear-off tabs on the bottom. What, is she just going to stick this on some community bulletin boards and hope for the best?”

“She said she was going to try Craigslist, too. She already tried asking some known heroes, but so far it’s just her, her new boyfriend Johnny, and America. America’s pretty powerful and she and Kate have worked together before, but Johnny's brand new to hero work. Kate needs some more muscle on her team and fast.”

It killed him to see her running such a bare bones operation when his own team was so over-powered and over-staffed. The real problem was the disproportionate amount of heroes in New York when there was trouble all over. He really didn’t see any of them being willing to relocate to LA though. Especially when Kate still didn’t have a source of income for her team figured out. 

"Tell her it looks great," he said.

"You didn't even look at it."

"Yeah, tell her anyway. She needs the support."

Darcy tapped out a message and then just as she was setting his phone back in the cupholder, it buzzed again.

"Steve?"

"Natasha this time."

Clint sighed. "Go ahead. She might have an update."

"It's just a link to a hotel website. You going somewhere?"

"Not that I know of. Where is it?"

He waited while Darcy clicked the link and scrolled. "The Catskills. What is it with you guys and that particular mountain range?"

"Nothing!" Clint cleared his throat. "Just some dumb inside joke. Don't worry about it."

"Uh huh," Darcy said doubtfully.

Why was it always so hard to lie to her? Clint was pretty damn sure he wasn't this transparent with anyone else. He'd be dead several times over if he was.

"Oh!" Darcy jumped in her seat. "This one's from Steve. 'Volta arrested and in PD custody, to be transferred to HSI in the morning.' What's HSI?"

"Homeland Security something. They’re like FBI lite.” Clint took the exit to get back to her parents’ house. “So you know what that means, right?”

“No more babysitting?”

Clint made a face. “Can we call it bodyguard duty instead? But yeah, no more armed escort.”

“I doubt I’ll even be able to tell a difference once we get back. It’s not like I go out in public very often.”

“You didn't have a reason to before, but maybe you could do a couple weekend trips somewhere nearby and write about those. And now you can do it without looking over your shoulder the whole time.” 

The writing gig still made him nervous, but there was no doubt she was excited about it. She’d spent most of their trip to the zoo either taking notes and pictures of everything they saw or talking about how she wanted to frame her blog post around hometown tourism. If being a nomad made her happy, he’d have to live with it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t encourage her to see him as a home base in between trips.

“That would be nice,” she said with a sigh. “I felt like every rando we passed today was going to lunge for me. Still jumpy after last night, I guess.”

That was another thing he’d noticed, although her anxiety had been hard to miss when she was tense enough that it had rubbed off on him. Which was fine, the whole reason he was there was to watch her back and there was nothing like a little paranoia to cut through the exhaustion of a sleepless night. It just would have been nice to do the whole meet the parents thing without being distracted by possible—but ultimately non-existent—threats. Darcy hugged her arms tight around herself and Clint reached over the gearshift to squeeze her leg. 

“Hey, we’re good now. We’ll go relax at your parents for the night and your dad can imply I’m useless as both an Avenger and a man a few more times, and then we’ll go home in the morning.”

Darcy chuckled and laced her fingers through his. “I am so sorry about him. I don’t know why he’s so grumpy. He’s never gotten to do the whole overprotective dad thing before so I guess he’s making up for lost time.”

“I can handle it. At least your mom likes me.”

“Are you kidding? Once you busted out the Tony Stark stories at lunch, like turned firmly into love.”

If only Darcy was as easy to win over as her mom. It wasn’t like he expected her to profess her undying love for him the second she decided “boyfriend” wasn’t a dirty word, but it was getting harder and harder not to blurt it out himself and he knew, he just _knew_ it was still way too early for her to hear it. He didn’t want to rush things—not with her—but patience wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

One thing at a time, though. For now they just had to survive the rest of this visit.

* * *

“I can’t believe you saved these.” Darcy wiggled the toes of her worn old hippo slippers and eased herself into the chair opposite her mom at the kitchen table. She still fully intended to call in that foot rub from Clint, but he was stuck watching Pawn Stars with her brother and her dad in an attempt at finding something to bond over, so these would have to do for now.

“You can feel free to take them with you. Take a box or five with them,” her mom said, tipping back her wine glass. She’d already killed half a bottle on her own while Darcy had been saying good night to the girls and hunting down her slippers. 

Darcy poured herself a glass before her mom could finish the whole bottle on her own. She’d always loved wine but Darcy didn’t remember her mom putting it away quite like this since Nana had died. Every look and word in David’s direction had been perfectly pleasant, but obviously having physical proof of her husband’s infidelity walking and talking and taking up space in her house was taking a toll no matter how carefully her mom worked to hide it.

“I told you to just throw that stuff away,” Darcy said. Picking up an old argument like this was easier than starting a new one over her mom’s drinking habits. “If I haven’t wanted it in the past ten years, I doubt I’ll suddenly decide I need it next month.”

“Maybe not next month, but maybe someday you’ll settle down and you’ll have room to spread out and maybe then you won’t hate the idea of _stuff_ so much.”

“And maybe some day, you’ll realize not everything I touch has sentimental value.”

It was like reciting lines in a play. Next her mom would get nostalgic about her elementary school artwork and Darcy would say she should just take a picture of it and back it up digitally if it meant that much to her. They’d been over this all a million times. In fact, they never said anything new because that meant treading dangerous ground where they didn’t already know how the other person felt about a topic. Meant the possibility of hurting someone’s feelings or ripping through someone’s carefully crafted facade of, _Fine, I’m fine. Everything’s great._

Darcy’s attention wandered to the low voices of the men in the other room. Whatever they were talking about in there, it lacked the edge of hostility that had been present all day and Darcy breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She hadn’t really known what to expect with Clint meeting her parents, hadn’t even had a chance to be nervous about it with everything else going on, but her dad being such a jerk right off the bat had been disappointing. Of course there was a lot about her dad that was disappointing.

"You've never brought anyone home before. You must really like him."

Trying to see through the living room wall wasn't working so Darcy turned back to her mom who was now watching her with a soppy expression. Nevermind, looked like they were headed for uncharted territory after all.

"You know, part of that was a proximity thing," Darcy said in a last ditch attempt to distract her mom with her very favorite thing to complain about.

"And the other part?" her mom pressed.

Darcy bit her lip. "Yeah, I really like him."

Then just as Darcy took a sip of wine, her mom said, "You know, if I book now, I can probably swing a June date at the club."

Darcy choked and her mom just sat back and watched, calm and smug, while Darcy coughed and spluttered past the burn of accidentally sending alcohol down her windpipe. 

"Cool your jets, lady," Darcy said once she could actually breathe again. "Like does not mean love and it certainly doesn't mean marriage."

Her mom waved a hand and passed her a napkin. "Call me cliche, but I want grandbabies."

"What does that make Bianca and Emma?"

"Not mine. Not technically." 

Darcy would have expected a touch of bitterness from that pronouncement but her mom sounded perfectly matter of fact. It took a moment before Darcy could formulate a response to that. It made sense. Of course it did. But you'd never know she felt that way from watching her with the girls. 

" _Mom_. Those girls love you."

"Pretend I didn't say it if it upsets you, but it's true." Her mom shrugged and poured the last few drops of wine into her glass.

"Is that what you do? Just pretend dad never cheated on you?" Darcy asked. Hell, if they were tearing open old wounds, might as well go for broke.

"We all have to get through the day somehow.” Her mom's eyes dimmed briefly before she covered it up with a smile. "Should we get another bottle of wine?"

"I'll get it." Darcy said with a sigh. This wasn’t the first time she’d tried and failed to get a straight answer from her mom about David’s conception. Her mom was a master at avoiding difficult subjects, though.

The air had turned cold since the sun went down and Darcy hadn't bothered to put a sweater on, so she hurried across the back lawn to the side door of the detached garage. Inside, most of the space was occupied by her dad's old VW Minibus that he'd been planning to fix up for as long as Darcy had been alive. Every once in a while he'd spend a weekend out there getting covered in grease and cursing up a storm, but as far as Darcy knew, he'd never so much as gotten the old thing to start. 

In the far corner, her mom had carved out a space for her well-stocked wine fridge and Darcy had a fun couple of minutes looking through the labels. She'd never been a huge wine fan, never even bothered to learn the difference between a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Merlot, but she liked looking at the label art. She chose a red with a label that reminded her of tarot cards just because it was pretty. Then because she didn't want to have to come out there again and it seemed like that kind of night, a white with an old woman's mug shot on the front to celebrate Volta having been arrested. 

The door creaked and Darcy spun towards it, her hands tight around the necks of the bottles. Through the windows of the bus, she could see the door swinging on its hinges. She'd thought she'd closed it, but it'd always had a faulty latch. It must have just been the wind pushing it open. Totally just the wind. Everything was fine and Volta and all of his buddies were in jail and she was safe in her childhood home. All the same, she'd feel better being back inside with everyone else. 

She turned the corner around the bus and a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed her around the throat. One of the bottles slipped out of Darcy's hand and crashed to the floor, spraying glass and liquid all over her legs. Her mouth opened to scream but all that came out was a rasp and even sucking in enough air to breathe was difficult.

"Hello little bitch," a rough masculine voice said in her ear.

The hand jerked her to the side and her head bounced off the front window of the bus. Darcy lost her grip on the second bottle. A splitting pain cleaved her head and her vision went white for a second. Panic made her struggle but the man clamped an arm around her waist and dragged her towards the door. 

Something beyond thought kicked in. Darcy grabbed for the hand around her waist, scrabbling for his fingers. Once she got a good handle on them, she yanked back on them as hard as she could. Pop. Crunch.

He yelled, but the hand on her throat was still too tight for her to make more than a croaking noise, so she went limp, forcing him to bear all of her weight so suddenly that his grip loosened. Not for long, not long enough to get away, but long enough that Darcy let out a hoarse scream that made her already aching head throb with pain. 

She swallowed past the urge to puke from it and lashed out at her attacker. She was still facing away from him, but she scratched and kicked and elbowed and _fought_ , screaming again and again. Someone would hear her. Someone had to hear her. 

The door crashed against the wall and then her attacker's hands were off of her. Darcy crawled toward the door, then stumbled to her feet, turning and leaning on the doorway to watch as Clint—oh thank fuck—straddled her attacker and pummeled the man's face with punch after punch after punch.

"Darcy?!"

Darcy turned to see her mom out on the lawn, her hand outstretched and a look of absolute horror on her face. Her dad and David were crowded in the kitchen doorway, but she couldn't see their reaction with the light behind them.

"Mom, go back inside and call the cops." Fuck, her voice sounded like gravel on sandpaper.

"Baby, you're _bleeding_."

Something crashed in the garage and Darcy spun back around to see Clint, a gash across his left cheek, push off from her dad's workbench to launch himself at the other man. It was too dim to make out who the other guy was, but he was big and mean and he was giving Clint a hell of a fight.

"David, call the police," her mom shouted.

"I already did."

"What the hell is going on out there?" her dad asked just as Clint dodged one of the guy's big, meaty fists, sending it straight through the window of the bus.

Darcy ran past all of them back into the house, pushing her dad and David out of the way so she could get to her purse on the counter. She grabbed her taser and ran back to the garage, her vision swimming, the whole time chanting _shoot first, shoot first_ to herself.

Back in the garage, Clint had the upper hand again and was whacking the shit out of the guy with a golf club. His wide back was turned to her and this time Darcy didn't wait. She fired and the guy screamed and dropped to his knees. Clint hit him over the head one more time with the driver and he dropped all the way to the ground, face first onto the concrete.

Clint stepped back, threw the golf club aside, and called out, “Hey Ben, you got any rope?”

Her dad cautiously entered the garage, looking down incredulously at the bloody, unconscious man on the floor, then around at the mess they’d all made of his garage. To his credit, he shook himself out of it pretty quickly and found a length of nylon rope for Clint to tie the guy up with. 

“Darcy, come inside so I can look at your head,” her mom said, a gentle pressure on her arm.

“Wait.” Darcy caught Clint’s eyes as he stood up. “Who is he?”

Clint nudged the guy’s head to the side with his foot so Darcy could see his rapidly swelling face. She’d only seen him the one time on Volta’s yacht, but she recognized the scar on his chin.

“Karlsson. But I thought—”

“We won’t know why until we ask him and I don’t think he’s waking up for a while.”

“Will somebody tell me what the _hell_ is going on?” Darcy’s dad asked.

Just then, they heard the wail of sirens getting closer and Darcy sagged against Clint's side. She shouldn't have been close enough to do that, but suddenly he was there, holding her up and easing the taser out of her hand.

“Can I maybe get my concussion checked out before we do storytime?”

* * *

The ER nurses hadn’t cared for Clint or the way he insisted having his busted knuckles and the cut on his cheek fixed up from the chair next to Darcy’s bed, but like hell he was leaving her side again for even a second. Dana’s opinion of him had soured too once he got the whole story out, though Ben weirdly was way less antagonistic. 

As for Darcy, she was drowsy and in pain and deeply annoyed that her bruised throat was preventing her from talking since the doctor insisted she needed vocal rest until her throat healed. They’d had to track down a pen and paper when she kept trying to interject details into Clint’s story and the whole thing had taken a lot longer than it should have because they kept having to pause while she furiously scribbled in Clint’s defense. 

_Please stop taking credit for shit that’s not your fault. I was the one who was stupid enough to go off alone AGAIN._ The last word got underlined three times and she shoved her pad of paper in his face, like he hadn’t been reading as she wrote down the words.

Clint sighed in exasperation and gently pushed the pad back into her lap. “You’re not stupid for being comfortable in your own home. And I’m the one who said you were clear. I should have known better.”

“Alright, hey, how about you both take it easy with the blame?” Ben said, holding up his hands. “Darcy, you violently attack anyone tonight?”

Darcy shrugged and made a half-hearted finger gun gesture.

“Anyone who didn’t attack you first,” Ben added, long-suffering.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Right. And Clint, you cause any unnecessary damage while defending my daughter tonight?”

“Just to your golf club.”

Ben groaned, exasperated. "I’ll get a new one. I’m trying to make a point here. Both of you should have been safe in my home and yet here we are in the ER. Now that’s not either of your faults and it’s not my fault either. None of us are responsible for the actions of evil men.”

Tears filled Darcy’s eyes and Clint watched, detached and defeated despite Ben’s words, as her parents both wrapped their arms around her, Dana making shushing sounds into Darcy’s hair. When they pulled away, Darcy sniffled and wrote _I want to go home_ , on her pad. 

Dana tenderly brushed the hair out of her eyes. “I know, baby. We’re just waiting on the doctor to clear you for at home monitoring.”

Darcy shook her head and pointed at Clint and mouthed the word, “home.” 

Oh. Clint’s eyes darted between Dana’s quickly smothered betrayed expression and Ben’s resigned frown before he landed on Darcy’s pleading, pain-filled eyes. He would not get excited at the idea that her concept of home had shifted to the Avengers compound while she was still in the hospital but man, if there had to be a silver lining to the night, that was definitely it.

“How fast you want to get there? I can fly us home tonight, but you might be more comfortable in the car.”

“A-S-A-P,” Darcy signed. 

Whatever his face looked like at that moment, it must have communicated how badly he needed to kiss her because Ben herded Dana out of their little curtained off partition, muttering something about getting coffee. The second they were gone, Clint gently cradled her face and pressed feather-light kisses to the furrow of pain between her brows, her cheeks, and finally her lips. She pushed in for a deeper kiss, then drew back with a wince and sagged back against the pillows. 

“I’m so sorry,” Clint said, settling for holding her hand instead.

Darcy huffed and ghosted her fingers over his bandaged cheek and mouthed, “Me too.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he insisted for what felt like the fortieth time.

Darcy just looked at him like he was stupid and Clint sighed and nodded. Fine. If neither of them did anything wrong—and he still disagreed with that—then they could both be sorry for nothing and be stupid together.


	22. Chapter 22

The week after the attack was kind of a blur. Head injuries were assholes like that. Darcy’s concussion was mild and her throat healed quickly, but it still meant four days of laying in bed and doing nothing more strenuous than listening to quiet music. 

Darcy did her damnedest to sleep through as much of it as possible, if for no other reason than to avoid constantly reliving the moment when Karlsson had been loaded into the back of a squad car. There had been a locked car door, a handful of uniformed police officers, and her own personal guardian superhero between them, and Darcy had still felt the malice rolling off Karlsson like a thick, choking smog. 

Locked up and awaiting trial, Karlsson was totally honest and unrepentant about the fact that he’d come after her for nothing more creative than revenge. She and Clint had gotten in the way of his fucked up version of fun back on Volta’s yacht and gotten him fired in the process. All it took was a call to a sympathetic fellow thug still on Volta’s payroll and he had the when and where for getting his payback. Volta himself hadn’t even been that efficient.

So it was all technically over and she was technically safe, but Darcy knew it would be a while before she stopped looking over her shoulder. Confronting whatever fun new disorders had been sprinkled into her mental health stew after this latest brush with danger could wait for later, though. While she was still feeling each and every bruise, her only real goal was to heal. 

Over those four days, Darcy knew Jane and Thor checked in on her, which was nice up until Thor’s booming voice made it too difficult to have either of them around. She also knew Natasha brought her soup. It had tasted terrible, but it soothed her abused throat and Natasha had stayed to watch her eat it, so she slurped it down anyway. Darcy figured everyone stopped by at some point, but she spent so much time either sleeping or pretending to sleep that she wasn’t left with much more than the soft, hazy impression of Clint’s hands stroking her hair. 

The second Darcy felt focused enough to attempt a little light reading, she went down to the lab just to escape the enforced boredom. Which, admittedly was not the best place to go looking for a little excitement, but she didn’t feel up to a walk outside yet.

"Hey!" Jane greeted her, her eyes lingering on the fading ring of bruises around her throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Better-ish. No more nausea when I stand up too suddenly. Don't sound like I smoke two packs a day anymore." Darcy sat at her desk and swiped her finger through the thin coating of dust on the keyboard. It hadn't even been a full week since she last used it, had it? Darcy was still fuzzy on details like the day of the week and basic math. 

"What about the headaches?" Jane asked, looking like if Darcy was honest about the headache she had right that very second, she'd send her back to bed.

"Off and on. More off than on today." Which was totally true. Her head hadn't started hurting until she stood up. She couldn't take another second of her Chill Vibes playlist though, so she was just going to have to muscle through this one.

"Okay," Jane said. "I'm glad you're here actually. I was going to bring you this anyway."

She handed over a printout and Darcy's tired eyes took several seconds too long to recognize it as a yearly budget. Why was Jane going over their budget now in late August when they usually did that in April?

"Is it not enough?” Jane asked. “I know the extra funding was supposed to be all for you but I thought with the extra room in the budget, I could justify accepting the offer to be a panel member for the Hawaii conference in October. It would be maybe two days of work, tops, and then we could stay a few more days for vacation."

Darcy stared at Jane, uncomprehending. "What extra funding?"

"The funding you asked for? Or the way Tony tells it, you pretty much bullied it out of Steve."

A fuzzy memory of confronting Captain America while wrapped in only a sheet swam to the surface. She'd forgotten all about it, but the memory of the conversation was still in there if she concentrated, just heavily pixelated. Darcy skimmed through the budget again until she got to her salary. 

Holy. Shit.

"How much more did he give you?!" Too much, Darcy realized as she scanned the sheet again. And other than the Hawaii trip, Jane hadn't taken any of it for herself. "This isn't going to work."

"We don't have to do Hawaii. I haven't accepted yet, it was just an idea." Jane looked like she was trying very hard not to pout.

"No, that’s not—Look, I can't handle math right now. Not even the type where Excel does it all for you," Darcy said, giving in to the need to massage her temples. "Hawaii is a great idea, but either you need to take a big chunk of the money for your own salary or you need to come up with like ten other conferences you want to go to."

"I'm not the one who got stuffed in the trunk of a car. This is your money.”

“That wasn’t even the hard part,” Darcy muttered. She passed the printout back to Jane. “Just give me a five percent raise and stick the rest in a discretionary fund and we can figure out how we want to spend it later.”

Jane frowned but didn’t argue the point any further, which Darcy was grateful for because she really didn’t have the energy to give it her all right now. Jane was stubborn enough that any argument with her really needed her full attention. 

“You really don’t look great. Maybe you should go lay down for a bit.”

That unfortunately sounded like a great idea, but Darcy was sick of her room and sick of being handled so carefully by everyone. “I’m fine. I can’t spend a lot of time reading, but I’ve been meaning to reorganize the office supplies, anyway.”

Again, Jane didn’t press the issue, which didn’t give Darcy any comfort at all. She must look like reheated roadkill if Jane was being so nice. As much as her bed was calling to her though, there really was work to do. Sometimes you got your head smashed into a window, but life still went on. Unless, of course, it was a really hard hit and you died. 

But Darcy wasn’t dead. Life went on and so would she.

* * *

Clint was late, but it wasn’t his fault. Okay, it was maybe, partially his fault. At most, fifty percent. 

See, Kate had called him in for a minor fight again. A quick and easy lay-up against a handful of Madame Masque’s henchpeople that Kate and her team really should have been able to handle on their own. But if she needed him there like a security blankie for her first few fights, Clint was happy to help out. 

Then they’d all gotten pizza back at her office while they went over applications for her team. How was he supposed to say no to free food and entertainment? One guy claimed he had bread powers, whatever that meant. Another guy was going by The Dutch Oven, complete with a thick comforter draped over his shoulders as his costume. It all would have been hilarious if the lack of any real prospects didn’t put such a defeated slump in Kate’s shoulders.

Once he realized she wasn’t having as much fun with it as he was, Clint had been about to ask America to send him home, but that was when one last applicant walked in. That right there was where Clint figured he could shift some of the blame. He couldn’t just dip out in the middle of an interview.

The one and only worthwhile applicant to Kate’s still untitled team was Gwendolyn Poole, AKA Gwenpool. She was a weapons expert, had extensive martial arts training, and was very likely insane. Probably not the dangerous kind of insane, though. Just possibly crazy enough to keep things interesting. There was no doubt they needed her. Well, Kate needed her. It wasn’t his team. 

He kept doing that. Probably because Kate kept acting like he was running the team with her. Even when she wasn’t asking America to teleport him in, she was constantly calling, asking for his opinion on how they should handle calls to action and if they needed to advertise and what the best post-fight grub was. 

It wasn’t his, though. His was back in New York. He just wanted to be sure his friend wasn’t out there fighting without a reliable team watching her back. Gwen wouldn’t be his first choice, but well, his first choice wasn't available. Gwen would get the job done though, and that was what mattered.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” America said once Gwen had left to get her stuff, or possibly rob a bank. “You ready to head home, Clint? ‘Cause if not, you’re stuck in LA until tomorrow.”

Clint rolled his neck until it cracked and stood, glancing at the clock on the oven. It was only 4:30, which meant he still had time to shower and maybe even get a short nap in before his date with Darcy at 7.

Wait. Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

“Shit!” Clint groaned and gathered up his gear. Bow, quiver, arrows. There was one boot, where was the other one? “I was supposed to meet up with Darcy half an hour ago.”

All his fault or only fifty percent his fault, he’d still left Darcy waiting on his dumb ass. Again. She hadn’t been mad the last two times, but her patience couldn’t be endless.

“How are you so bad at this?” Kate asked around a huge bite of cold pizza. “Weren’t you late last week, too?”

“That was two weeks ago. I keep forgetting about the time difference.” Clint checked behind the couch and under the kitchen table. Still no boot. “Last week I got home in time but I fell asleep as soon as I got there and woke up to her—Never mind.”

Clint cut himself off just in time. They really didn’t need to know how she had woken him up. It was a good memory, though. He was holding on to that one.

Johnny held out Clint’s other boot. “Might want to get her flowers or something to apologize, man. It’s a classic move for a reason.”

“How come you’ve never gotten me flowers if you’re such a fan?” Kate asked, leaning into Johnny’s side. 

“I haven’t done anything I need to apologize for yet.”

Clint looked imploringly at America.

“If I’m going to be a teleporting taxicab, you only get one trip. I can take you to a florist, but you’re on your own from there.”

“Take me home,” Clint said with a sigh. He’d just have to make it up to Darcy some other way.

America’s star-shaped portal dropped Clint five feet up inside his bedroom, making him feel like he missed several steps on a staircase, and he narrowly avoided crashing head first into a wall. He knew she was doing that on purpose. Her portals always worked perfectly when she was the one going through them. 

An alarm rang out through the common areas and Clint heard the lock on his bedroom door engage and watched the steel shutters on the windows slam down. This was the other unfortunate side effect to what was otherwise the coolest way to travel he’d ever experienced.

“Please identify yourself,” JARVIS said in crisp tones.

“Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye. I live here.”

The shutters opened, the lock went snick in the door, and the alarm went quiet. 

“Welcome home, Mr. Barton. I shall inform the others of the false alarm. If I may, it might be prudent to consider creating a standard access point for Miss Chavez’s interdimensional portals. If they occur in the same place every time, I can adjust the compounds sensors to ignore them.”

Clint dumped his gear next to the closet. “I’ll talk to her about it. I’m pretty tired of just getting yanked into another city without any warning, too.”

There was a knock on the door and when Clint answered it, he was instantly greeted by an armful of soft, warm Darcy. Her hair tickled his nose, but he pressed his face into it anyway. How did she always smell so damn good? He pulled her further into the room so he could push her up against the closed door and kiss her, long and soft and slow. He was a fool for forgetting about this for even a second. 

“I’m sorry I’m late, but it’s only been half an hour. You still wanna go?”

They’d made her glasses go all crooked and she pushed them up the bridge of her nose and smiled up at him. “Nah, I already ate.”

The plan had been to borrow Steve’s bike and take a ride into the nearest town for burgers at a diner. Nothing fancy, but Thelma’s made a really good burger and she’d said she was looking forward to it. He took a good look at her and realized she was in her usual hanging out around the house type of outfit. Thick wool socks, leggings, and an even thicker cardigan. 

“You’re not dressed, either,” Clint said. “Were you expecting me to be late?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Darcy said with a shrug. “We can still go if you really want to. I guess I could get a milkshake or something.”

Well, fuck. It wasn’t like he’d been looking forward to her being angry with him, but knowing she didn’t think he was even capable of following through and then proving her right was so much worse.

“I swear I’m not usually this unreliable.” Clint scrubbed his hand over his face. “Shit, that’s a lie. I don’t _want_ to be.”

“I know, but listen.” Darcy took his hand and brushed her thumb over his scraped knuckles. “I’ve been thinking about it and I think we just aren’t going to be able to work this way.”

Clint went cold all over. So that was it. Apparently Darcy abided by three strikes and you’re out. Nice of her to let him down so gently.

“Jesus, your face!” Darcy said with a laugh, cupping his cheek with her hand. “Relax, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Oh, thank god.” Clint breathed out a relieved sigh. Not that he wouldn’t understand if she wanted to call it quits when it was a fucking miracle they’d made it this far, but he appreciated the stay of execution all the same.

“I meant plans,” Darcy said. “Plans aren’t going to work for us. No more setting up dates just to be disappointed when the other person can’t make it.”

“You mean me. I’m the only one who can’t seem to make it on time.” Which meant she _had_ been disappointed and he hadn’t picked up on it at all. Either she was getting better at hiding how she was feeling or he was getting worse at paying attention and he didn’t like either of those options.

“Yep, I mean you.” Darcy patted his side and walked around him to place her glasses on his desk. Then she took off her sweater, folded it neatly, and set it on his desk chair. “It’s not like I’m the one doing all the bi-coastal commuting. I’m only ever in three places. My room, your room, or the lab.”

Something clicked into place at that and Clint caught her hand and pulled her in close. “Have you left the compound at all since we got back from your parents’ house?”

Darcy tensed and that was enough of an answer for him. She’d been doing a pretty good job acting like nothing had happened, but between her reluctance to go out into an unprotected space and the sporadic nightmares she sometimes woke him up with, it really was just an act. 

“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow,” Darcy said. Then she smiled up at him, visibly shifting aside the darker subject. "Anyway, spontaneity. I think that's the key."

"The key to what?"

"Us! Keep up, Clint. We'll do fun, date-y stuff when we can and we'll try our best to be patient when we can't. I think that's our recipe for success."

"How are you so cool about this?" The only people he'd been with who had even come close to this level of understanding were other hero types and even then, he'd always managed to find a way to disappoint them.

"I watched Jane wither away for literal years while she waited around for Thor to fulfill an impossible promise. I’m just trying to be realistic about which promises you can live up to and making it home for dinner isn’t one of them.”

So she was just lowering her expectations, then. Great. 

“Don’t pout, Clinton. I know there are plenty of promises you can make _and_ keep.” Darcy pulled off her shirt and tossed it over her shoulder. “Here’s an easy one to start you off. Repeat after me: I promise not to steal all the covers.”

“How can I when you turn into a damn were-burrito the second we turn off the lights?”

Darcy just stared at him expectantly and Clint sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.

“I promise not to steal all the covers.”

“See, was that so hard?” Darcy bent to pull off her socks and those joined her shirt. “Now let me hear you say, ‘I promise I won’t get mad if Darcy wakes me up with one of her nightmares again.”

“When have I ever gotten mad about that?”

“Are you really not getting the point of this exercise yet?” Darcy asked, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

He wasn’t. Not really. What was the point of him promising a bunch of stuff he was going to do anyway? He went ahead and repeated it though, and Darcy took off her bra. Oh. Maybe he kind of got it.

“Now promise me you’ll share the last of that cereal I know you’ve been hiding from Wanda.”

That one hurt, but he promised that too. He could always get another box and he’d get her a box of her own if she liked it so much. Darcy shimmied out of her leggings and underwear all at once and Clint smoothed his hand down her bare back, hoping the next vow she extracted from him was something easy. He’d promise her anything at this point. Her hand curled around his belt buckle and Clint felt his cock jump in response. 

“Promise me I won’t have to think about anything but you tonight.”

Now that was one promise he was happy to put in the extra work to keep. Clint bent to kiss her and he kept kissing her, slow and deep and thorough, until she was leaning heavily against his chest, her breaths coming in sweet little sighs. He pulled back just enough to watch her eyelids flutter open. 

“I promise.”

She actually looked confused, just for a second. Then she smiled and pulled him back down for another kiss. 

Clint could never know for sure if he actually kept that promise. Telepathy wasn’t in his skill set and he liked it that way. All he knew was that she was all he thought about and that when she slept that night, fully wrapped up in his comforter and tucked underneath his chin, there weren’t any nightmares to wake either of them up.


	23. Chapter 23

There was a seldom used lounge on the ground level of the compound that reminded Darcy of all the worst parts of the Smith Motors building. The furniture was ugly and uncomfortable and it was always cold because there was an A/C vent right overhead, but it got wifi and didn't have Avengers drifting through at all hours of the day. What she was doing wasn't a secret exactly, but she needed the privacy to concentrate, and this way she got a nice view of the woods across the lawn just starting to turn colors as a bonus. 

The video ended and she hit replay for the fifth time. Her fingers felt less fumbly with every time through and she was starting to anticipate what the woman in the video was about to do with her hands. There were footsteps in the corridor and Darcy quickly paused the video. Natasha, like she could sense not-exactly-secrets being made, strolled into the lounge and propped a hip against the back of the chair opposite her.

“Hey, what are you doing down here?”

“Nothing, just hanging out.” Darcy closed her laptop. Nothing important going on there, no way. “The guys were using the upstairs lounge to watch a baseball game and I just wanted some quiet.”

“Really? Sounded like you were watching something.”

Of course Natasha wouldn’t let such an obvious lie slide. Darcy sighed deeply and squinted out at the woods, wondering how far she’d get if she made a break for it. Whatever, she might as well tell her. 

Slowly, Darcy pointed at herself, then acted like she was picking something up out of her open palm and bringing it to her forehead. Finally, she made two pointer fingers and moved them in circles towards her chest. Which, if she did that correctly, meant, “I’m learning to sign.”

Natasha's eyebrows rose and she took a seat. “Does Clint know?”

“No. I literally started half an hour ago. I learned the alphabet in high school, but I wanted to be able to do more than fingerspell at him when he has his hearing aids out.” She'd learned twenty five signs from this five minute video. At this rate, she might be fluent by next year if she gave up sleeping.

“Want me to show you all the dirty ones?” Natasha asked with a sly grin. 

“Maybe some other time,” Darcy said with a laugh. “I'm going to stick to the beginner lessons for now.”

Natasha pouted, like she had genuinely been looking forward to it. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. It's great that you're trying to learn. Even knowing a few basic signs will make his life easier.”

“Yeah, that's the idea. I'm not great with languages, but it doesn't hurt to try.”

There was something that Darcy had been wanting to ask ever since Monaco, but the time had never been right. Plus, if Darcy was being honest with herself, Natasha intimidated the hell out of her for so, so many reasons. Something about the relaxed and friendly way Natasha was regarding her made Darcy think this might be a good time to finally get her answer.

“Why are you rooting so hard for me and Clint?”

“It's not complicated,” Natasha said with an elegant shrug. “Everyone around you could see that you would be perfect for each other if you would just talk to each other, but Clint wouldn’t allow that to happen. He avoided you so hard it was like he was haunting the compound instead of living in it, which only made you more drawn to him. It was all getting a bit ridiculous. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

Darcy frowned and picked at a hole in the sleeve of her sweater. “I'm not going to bother denying that I'm happier now, but you make it sound like I had this huge crush on him. I noticed him, but it wasn’t like I stared longingly out the window, waiting for him to come home every time you guys went out on a call.”

There was no immediate answer to that and when Darcy looked up, Natasha seemed to be waiting for just that. Like she wanted the eye contact so Darcy would know just how serious she was.

“The week you and Jane moved in, I counted you watching her and Thor together and sighing wistfully on three separate occasions. I thought maybe you were in love with one of them, but individually, you treated them both like siblings.” Natasha leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees as she warmed to her subject. 

“Then Clint came home from whatever mission he’d been on, looking like hell and drinking straight from the coffee pot, and you somehow managed to yell at him and flirt at the same time. You may not have been doing it consciously, but after that, you looked for him any time you entered a room. If he wasn’t there, you were visibly disappointed. If he was, no one else ever got a second look. The only reasonable conclusion was that you were lonely and also, inexplicably attracted to idiots who like to hide from their feelings.”

“Jesus,” Darcy said, staring in outrage and grudging admiration. 

She’d never been so thoroughly dissected with so little effort. She kind of wanted to refute it all, just on principle, but how was she going to argue with someone who made a living out of studying people and using that information against them? It was pointless anyway. Darcy knew deep down Natasha was right even if she didn't want to admit it.

“I do want to apologize for going about it the way I did,” Natasha said, suddenly not so keen on meeting her eyes. 

“You’ve already apologized.” 

Natasha had, Steve had, and Clint had far too many times. Hell, even Vision had apologized to her and he’d barely been involved. Darcy was so beyond over all of it. She just wanted to forget the whole ordeal even happened. It was going on two months later and she still woke up terrified and gasping for breath sometimes. She wasn’t eager to waste any more of her waking thoughts on her brush with danger.

“That was for what happened with our botched plan. I’m talking about the initial set up. I didn’t think Clint would ever make a move unless I truly forced his hand, but well, I didn’t even try. I was lazy in the way I maneuvered the situation and that laziness is what led to everything else. So, I’m sorry.”

Ever since Monaco, Natasha had been sitting in a little box in her mind marked “Dangerous: Not To Be Trusted.” The initial setup, as Natasha called it, was what had put her there, but she hadn’t always seen her that way. Before Karlsson and Volta, before Clint, she had just been another roommate in their very bizarre living arrangement. Now she was coming to her, open and vulnerable and with what looked like a valiant attempt at honesty. She was still dangerous, but maybe it was time to amend the label on her box.

“I forgive you,” Darcy said. “I know you were just looking out for your friend and there’s no way you could have known things would have gone down the way they did.”

Natasha gave her a shaky smile. “Good. I don’t think I could take it if the person my best friend was in love with hated me.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t—I mean, he hasn’t said—”

“You’re both idiots,” Natasha said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You might have to say it first at this point. I think he’s terrified he’ll scare you off.”

“But I'm not in love with Clint,” Darcy said. Blurted it, more like. Darcy put her fingers over her lips, too late to hold in her blunt words. It wasn’t like she didn’t like him. She certainly wasn’t planning on breaking up with him anytime soon. It was just… What the hell was love anyway?

Natasha narrowed her eyes at her and for two harrowing seconds, Darcy was afraid she'd finally met her end. And not even by anything cool like invading aliens or vengeful billionaires. Nope, Darcy was going to die because she was an emotionally stunted almost 30-year-old who didn’t know how to love someone. Then Natasha did another one of those effortlessly elegant shrugs she was so good at and got to her feet.

“Maybe not yet. If you ever figure it out, I'd appreciate a heads up. I have a bet going with Bucky. I'd cut you in on the stakes, but,” she smiled wickedly, “I know Clint doesn't like to share.”

With that, she sauntered off looking very satisfied, though what she thought she’d achieved with their conversation, Darcy couldn’t be bothered to guess at. Her brain was still stuck on the idea that Clint was—might be—in love with her. 

Was it love that made him tuck the blankets around her whenever he left for an early morning gym session or was he just being considerate because he knew how cold she got? When he stopped by the lab just long enough to pull her behind the filing cabinets where Jane couldn’t see and kiss her senseless, was that love or just lust? 

He’d spent the last month slowly coaxing her out of the compound, leading her further and further away from safety. Last weekend she’d been able to manage a whole day hanging out in Albany. Was all of that effort born out of love or did he just find shut-ins unattractive?

Before she could get too deep into puzzling out Clint’s motives, her phone buzzed with a text from the man himself. **We’re grilling dogs for lunch. You want one?**

Then: **Hot dogs. Not actual dogs.**

Darcy smiled to herself and did a search for wiener dogs in hot dog costumes. Clint always got so offended by dogs in costumes. He said it violated their dignity. Before she could send one of them to him though, Clint came stomping down the stairs.

“So scratch that. The oldtimers will not shut up about the good old days and I can’t hear the game over their nostalgia. I still want hot dogs though, and there’s a gas station on Route 29 that sells bacon wrapped hot dogs. You up for a drive?”

“Sure, who doesn’t love mystery road meat?” 

“Come on, trust me. It’ll be great.” Clint pulled her to her feet and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “If you get food poisoning, I promise I’ll hold your hair while you throw up.”

Darcy leaned into his side as they walked. He was always so careful with his promises now and every time he made a new one, it made Darcy feel like she was lit up from the inside. Even when it was about something as gross as puke.

“Do you also promise we can stop for ice cream on the way back?”

Clint shrugged. “Sure.”

Darcy still didn’t know if what she and Clint had was love. It might be a while before she could define the way she felt for Clint. But if Natasha was right and he was already there—if this was what being loved felt like—then she wanted to get there, too.

* * *

The Avenger's Assemble alarm jarred Darcy awake. Why did that always happen in the middle of the night? She tried to ignore it, but quick bursts of light were blazing behind her eyelids and even squeezing them shut couldn’t make her ignore that. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to a squint and saw the overhead lights of Clint's room flashing on and off. 

“JARVIS, make it stop,” she croaked. “I'll wake him.”

“Of course, Miss Lewis.” The lights flashed on one more time and stayed that way and the alarm cut off too.

Darcy shook Clint's shoulder and he groaned and cracked an eye open. Well, this was exactly the sort of situation she'd been practicing for. Time to break out the handful of signs she knew. She tapped her fists together in what she was pretty sure was the sign for “work.”

Clint popped out of bed so fast he reminded her of a jack in the box. “The alarm went off?”

Darcy nodded but he was already getting dressed.

“Why does this always happen in the middle of the night?” He grumbled, shoving his feet into his boots. “I was having a really good dream.”

Dressed in record time, he scooped his comms case off the nightstand and leaned over to kiss her goodbye. Then he pulled back to look her in the eye. “Wait a second, did you sign to me or did I dream that?”

In answer, she made the sign for “careful.” That was one she'd had to deviate from the beginner lessons to look up, but it was a pretty important concept that she wanted to be able to communicate. 

His eyes went soft, and now that she was looking for it, she recognized that they were unmistakably filled with love. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

She drew in a shaky breath. Why was her heart suddenly beating so fast? That was weird. “Go, you don't want to be late.” 

He gave her another quick kiss and then ran out the door.

* * *

“She’s learning to sign!” Clint asked, firing an exploding arrow into the center of a cluster of Doombots. They were guarding the park side of the Met, police having set up a perimeter along the street side. Fucking bots were crawling all over Central Park, trying to seize control of most of the big landmarks. Clint never realized how big this damn park was until he had to run the length of it.

“I know. Caught her at it last week,” Natasha said. “I would have suggested it to her earlier if I’d known you’d be this excited, but I told you I wouldn’t interfere anymore than I already have.” She flipped over a bot and seized a tangle of wires at its back. One yank and the bot shorted out and crashed to the ground. 

“Like that's stopped you before,” Barnes grumbled over the comms.

“Don't be a sore loser, James,” she said with a smirk. 

“Wait, what'd he lose? Did you guys bet on us?”

Natasha gave a little shrug as if to say, _of course_. Over the comms, the rest of the team chimed in with affirmatives. At least Thor and Cap sounded guilty.

“What's the bet?”

“No one tell him!” Stark said. “It'll muddy the results.”

“It's how long you and Darcy stay together. So far Nat's in the lead,” Barnes said, obviously not enjoying his loss.

Iron Man zoomed overhead, blasting robots as he went. “No, no, Captain Happily Ever After had them down for marriage, so he's still in the running too. Well, cat's outta the bag. The rest of us thought for sure she'd drop you by now. No accounting for taste I guess.”

“Boy, I'm really feeling the team spirit,” Clint said. He couldn't be mad, though. He'd thought the same thing.

“I only bet against you because she seemed so against a relationship in the beginning,” Wanda chimed in. How she managed to keep up with the conversation while she and Vision were taking on Doctor Doom himself was anyone’s guess. 

“Could we focus on the army of robots trying to take over Central Park and not Barton's love life, please?”

“Cap just doesn't want you guys to know how happy he is that his ship became canon,” Sam said.

“What can I say? I love love,” Steve deadpanned. “Now let's exercise a little radio discipline, Avengers.”

The comms were silent for a solid minute and the next person to talk was just Stark feeding them info from his bird's eye view. “Widow, Hawkeye, you've got about twenty Doombots closing in around you.”

“Falcon, see if you can help them thin the herd. Thor, I need you down at the boathouse on the lake.”

“On my way, Captain.” Thor took to the air, Mjolnir leading the way.

“I just wanna know one thing,” Clint said, because he had always been terrible at following orders. “When did you guys make this bet? We've only officially been together for a couple months. You really thought I'd screw it up that fast?”

Sam shot a handful of bots, opening up a path for Clint and Natasha to run for better cover. “Actually, it started last Christmas. We thought you guys would wise up a lot sooner than you did.”

“Huh. Is that why there was so much mistletoe all over the place? I had to kiss Banner twice.”

“You really didn’t _have_ to,” Natasha said, shooting at something over his shoulder.

A distant roar echoed from the direction of Bethesda Terrace and Clint winced, glad they hadn’t found a comms system that would stick with Banner when he turned into the Hulk the way his pants did. Hulk wasn’t as cool about being kissed by his teammates as his alter ego was. 

“I still don't understand that particular human custom,” Thor mused. “On Asgard, mistletoe is a formidable and lethal poison. It doesn't seem a likely method to encourage affection.”

Steve came on the comms then, his voice dripping with exasperation. “Alright, you're all doing drills until you drop tomorrow. This is ridiculous. Someone's going to get hurt if we don't focus on the mission.”

The last robot in their view dropped with a charge from Natasha's Widow's Bite and Clint held his fist out for her to bump it. Falcon dropped in next to them just in time to make it a three-way bump. 

“Stark, we're clear over here. Where's the rest of the action?” Clint asked.

“We've got a cluster at the baseball fields on The Great Lawn and another squad taking up position at the castle.”

“Dibs on the castle,” Clint said and took off at a sprint. He wanted to get off the ground and Belvedere Castle's turret would do nicely.

The bots didn't move well over uneven ground. Honestly, Victor Von Doom was useless as an inventor. The guy didn't even try to make his Doombots hard to dismantle, just relied on overwhelming his enemies with sheer numbers. The upshot of that was the side of the castle facing the turtle pond would be entirely unprotected and from there, Clint could scale his way up to the turret and pick them all off at his leisure.

Slinging his bow across his back, Clint took a running leap at the wall and caught onto the sill of one of the bottom windows. From there, he scrambled up the corner between two walls and hooked his fingers onto the top of the wall. He did a cautious chin up, hoping to peek over the edge and see if the area was clear, and came face to faceplate with one of the bots. Shit.

He ducked just in time to avoid the bot's energy blast, but he had to get off of this wall. Launching himself up, he scooped his legs up and over the wall and kicked out, taking the bot’s head clean off and landing in the castle's courtyard. Now it was just him and fifteen of Doom's bastard children. Before they could react, he turned and flung himself up to the next level, where a low balustrade provided enough cover for him to shoot one of his shock nets at the closest three bots. 

There was one more wall to climb before he was in optimal position. It was taller and didn't have as many decorative touches to use as footholds, so he'd have to be fast and lucky. Fast wasn't a problem. Luck… well he'd never had much luck. He made it over the wall onto the turret, but not before one of the bots clipped his leg. 

He dropped to the ground with a pained grunt. His right thigh felt like it was on fire and he could smell charred flesh. Just about the only good thing he had going for him right now is that the blast had immediately cauterized the wound, so at least he wasn't in danger of bleeding out. He gritted his teeth against the pain and counted his exploding arrows. 

No more fucking around. Three left. More than enough. Nocking all three at once, he carefully kneeled on his good leg. Not giving the bots a second chance to improve their aim, Clint shot without looking. 

He gave it a count of five before he cautiously glanced over the wall. Nothing but char marks and twisted bits of metal remained. With a heavy sigh of relief, he collapsed against the turret wall and prodded the edge of his wound. Fuck, that hurt. He was definitely out for the rest of the fight and wouldn't even be able to get back to the jet without help. Darcy's hesitant signing, telling him to be careful, came back to him. Yep, he sure was shit at following orders.

“Hey Cap, you know how you said one of us was going to get hurt? You might want to buy a lottery ticket.”

There was a heavy pause, then Cap's voice came in, steady and reassuringly authoritative over the comms. “Do you need an evac?”

“I'm stable, but I can't go anywhere. The castle's clear. Just come pick me up when you guys are done.”

“Doom turned tail and ran, so things are wrapping up. I'm on my way,” Stark said.

Clint blew out a silent sigh of relief. He could wait if he had to, but he wouldn't say no to some pain killers sooner rather than later. The adrenaline was already wearing off and he was having a hard time sitting still. 

Iron Man landed a moment later with a loud clank in front of him. “Ooh, now that’s a crispy drumstick. Okay, you wanna do this bridal style? Fireman? Superman?”

Clint's vision swam. “Whatever.”

The faceplate on the suit flipped up and Stark looked down at him with concern. Oh shit, he must look really bad. “JARVIS, get Dr. Cho on the line and tell her to meet us at the tower and if anyone beats us back to the quinjet, get some morphine ready for our fried hawk, here. I swear, if you put me off KFC, I'll never forgive you, Barton.”

Working together, they got him standing and Clint hooked his arms around Tony's neck, his good leg wrapped around him in the laziest piggy back ride ever. His injured leg bounced against the suit every time Stark banked, even though he could tell Stark was trying to keep the ride smooth. Should have just succumbed to the embarrassment and done bridal style. Thankfully it was a short ride back to the quinjet and Sam jabbed him in the neck with a syrette the second he was horizontal. 

“Darcy,” Clint slurred out.

“Don't worry about it, we'll let her know. You're going to be fine, Clint.”

“No.” He grabbed on to what he thought was probably Sam’s wrist, the morphine dragging him toward unconsciousness. “Don't tell ‘er.”

* * *

The sound of the quinjet's engines woke her. She hadn't planned on falling back asleep, but it had been just after midnight when the team left and by two, she was totally zonked out, face pressed into Clint's pillow and wrapped up in one of his flannels. Stealing a pair of his boxers, she stumbled out into the lounge just in time for the team to come trudging up the stairs. 

Most of the team. Where the fuck was Clint?

Vision and Wanda filed past her, eyes averted, and distantly, she registered Thor's pat on the shoulder when he passed her too. Meanwhile, her eyes were on Natasha, Sam, and Steve having a quiet argument at the top of the stairs and Darcy's heartbeat quickly ratcheted into running for her life levels.

“What happened? Where is he?” Darcy knew it was her that spoke the words, but they sounded like they came from someone else at the end of a very long hallway.

Sam threw up his hands and went into the kitchen. Natasha broke away from Steve and embraced her and that was enough to ice over Darcy's heart. She stood stock still in Natasha's arms, barely tolerating the touch while Natasha made shushing sounds in her ear.

“He's fine. Or he will be. He got hurt, but he'll be good as new by the time you see him.” Natasha held her by the shoulders at arm's length but Darcy couldn't quite process her words yet.

“He's fine?”

“Nothing life threatening. He might need some PT.”

Darcy let out a shaky breath. Every point of contact with Natasha's hands made her skin crawl and Darcy irritably pushed her away. He was fine. Great, because she was going to kill him. She specifically told him to be careful.

Steve stepped forward and put on his best calming-the-populace voice, “Darcy, I'd be happy to take you to him. I'm going to get changed and then I'm ready whenever you are.”

“Five minutes,” she said fiercely, then turned on her heel and left them both standing in the hallway. 

Three minutes later, she found Steve waiting for her. She stalked past him without a word and headed for the hangar. They were in the air before he even attempted to talk to her.

“He really will be fine. Tony says Dr. Cho has been making amazing advancements in tissue reconstruction. I won't pretend I understand how it works, but by the time she's done, Clint should be good as new.”

Darcy couldn't even muster up a polite thank you, just stared at the horizon for the duration of the short flight into the city. She was so, so mad, and madder still because she knew she was being irrational. He hadn’t promised. He’d known he couldn’t keep it and even if he had, she would have known it was worthless. She had no right to be mad, but she was anyway.

They landed at the top of Stark Tower and Darcy was up and ready to run out before Steve even lowered the rear hatch. Inside, Tony was still in his undersuit, hair mussed and dark circles around his eyes while he read something on a tablet. He jerked his chin at the glassed-in upper levels and through the early morning glare, she could just make out Clint stretched out on a table. 

Probably she used the stairs, but she'd have no memory of it later. Suddenly she was just there, inches away from Clint's inert body. They hadn't taken his uniform off, just cut it away from the wound. He was resting on his side, either unconscious or asleep, his face boyish and untroubled by the machine that curved over his leg. What looked like beams of light stitched his cells back together. Or something. High school biology hadn't prepared her for trying to describe whatever was happening to his body.

“He’s very lucky I was already in New York, or the wait for me to fly in from Korea might have caused him permanent nerve damage,” said a woman working at a desk across the room. Dr. Cho, probably. She must have been there the whole time and Darcy didn’t even notice.

“But he’ll be able to use his leg? There’s like an entire chunk of it missing.” She shot a look at the wound, then squeezed her eyes shut and angled her body away so she wouldn’t be tempted to look at it again. Her hand reached out and squeezed his limp fingers, not really sure if she was looking for comfort or trying to offer it.

“He will. Thanks to the cradle, he won’t even be able to tell a difference between the old tissue and the new. It will take a few hours for the regeneration to complete and he must remain unconscious the whole time. Perhaps you would be more comfortable waiting downstairs?”

Darcy glared at the doctor and pulled over a spare wheely chair. “I’m staying.”

The doctor smiled at her in a way that was probably trying for understanding, but the irritation seeped through. Regardless, she went back to her work and Darcy stroked the top of Clint’s head.

“What part of, ‘be careful,’ didn’t you understand?” she asked in a fierce whisper. Then the first few tears began to trickle down her face and she pressed her face to their joined hands. 

This. This devastated feeling that had her flickering between numbness and anger is exactly why she had been so reluctant to commit to him. She hadn’t known what would cause it, but she’d felt it lurking, waiting to consume her since the beginning. She’d fought it, she’d held it off as long as she could, but here she was, terrified and heartsick. 

Sure, he’d be fine. This time. But what about the next time or the time after that? It wasn’t like he was giving up the hero business anytime soon. She’d never even ask it of him. Not when he loved it so much. Not when she knew how much good he was putting out in the world. All she was left with was the sinking certainty that someday he might not be fine and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

The only thing to do to save herself future heartache at this point would be to cut herself loose. Break up with him, quit working for Jane, leave Clint and anything related to the Avengers behind. She lifted her head to look at his face, tried to imagine saying the words, “we’re through,” to him and a sob burst out of her. 

No. No, it was too late for that. She’d lied to Natasha and hadn’t known it. Because if this is what the thought of losing him did to her, there couldn’t be any doubt any more. 

“I love you,” she whispered and ran her hand over his hair again. A laugh broke though the tears and she said it again. 

Darcy remembered Wanda and her dreamy little smile as she thought of Vision, telling her that sometimes love could be worth the pain. The idea had been beyond comprehension at the time, but she thought maybe she got it now. This would happen again, maybe with far more disastrous results the next time, and Darcy could accept that if it meant loving and being loved by Clint.


	24. Chapter 24

Clint woke with his face smushed into a stainless steel table, drool drying on his chin. There was too much light coming through too many windows, and he squeezed his eyes against it while he did a quick inventory and tried to figure out where the hell he was. The world was silent, but he wasn't restrained and he wasn't injured. That part didn't seem right. Hadn't something happened to his leg? 

All at once, Clint's drug-fogged brain caught up with reality and he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Darcy, looking not all that great, though someone would have to put a gun to his head before he said that out loud. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She looked like she'd been dragged out of bed and forced to attend a funeral. Didn't he say not to bother her with this? He was pretty sure he told Sam—or someone—not to tell her he'd been hurt.

"Aw, shit."

Her head jerked up and there was a tiny, barely there smile on her face. "Morning, sunshine."

She held out his aids and he eased himself into a sitting position so he could put them in and get his bearings. They'd brought him to Stark Tower instead of a hospital so either it hadn't been as bad as he thought, or it was way worse. No point hoping for the first when he knew it was the second, though.

Normally after a fight, Clint was a little stiff no matter how stupid he'd been. Other than the cotton mouth from the drugs, this felt like waking up on any other day. Clint knew he should be grateful at the lack of pain but passing out with a serious injury and waking up with a complete absence of pain was disconcerting. Like stepping into another dimension where the sky was the wrong shade of blue.

"How long was I out?"

"Only a couple of hours. Dr. Cho said it went quicker than expected." Darcy glanced over his shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Apparently you have robust cells."

Clint poked at the weirdly hairless section of leg that was showing through his ripped uniform. It felt like leg, but he was pretty sure he’d seen muscle fiber through all the charring before someone had gotten in there and started playing with his genome. 

"All the better to turn me into a cyborg, I guess."

"You are not a cyborg, Mr. Barton." Dr. Cho came into view, her heels clicking on the lab floor. "My cradle uses nanotechnology to regenerate organic tissue using your own cells as the building blocks. I promise you, you remain one hundred percent human."

Darcy reached over and pinched his thigh. "Feels pretty real. Gotta admit, I was expecting it to feel a little plasticky."

Dr. Cho gave Darcy a censuring look, who shot back with a sunny, fake smile. Clint had met the doc once before. Some party, there at the tower, where Clint had drunk way too many of the fancy microbrews Stark was serving. Dr. Cho was the kind of genius who saw people as puzzles to take apart and put back together again and had spent most of their introduction practically salivating over the idea of getting to fix up his “inevitable future injuries.” He wasn’t surprised Darcy didn’t appreciate the doc’s mad scientist vibes any more than he did.

"So he's done, right?"

"Yes, of course. Please call me if you have any problems at all. Any tingling or loss of sensation. Anything out of the ordinary." Dr. Cho handed him a business card and Darcy flicked her fingers at her turned back in a mockery of a wave.

"I’m sorry you got dragged into the city for this.” Clint said, hopping off the table. “It really was nothing major.”

Darcy gave him a look that saw straight through his bullshit. “Clint, I saw what it looked like before. It wasn’t exactly a paper cut.”

“Aw jeez, you did?” Clint rubbed at his face. She shouldn’t have seen that. She shouldn’t even be there. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Darcy huffed out a laughed and blinked back new tears with a sniff. “You’re the one that got hurt.”

“Happens all the time. You get used to it.” You could get used to anything if it happened often enough. “It’s not going to get any better, that’s for damn sure.”

Shit, why had he said that? Like she needed the reminder that she’d attached herself to an unremarkable human who refused to live an unremarkably human life. He’d been down this road before. You would think he’d learn from one or two of his dumbass mistakes, but it hadn’t happened yet. 

Someone had brought him the change of clothes he kept in the quinjet, so he stripped off his ruined pants just to avoid seeing her reaction. When he was done changing, he looked up to find Darcy staring out the window at the skyline, her lips pressed together in a hard line. She nodded to herself, then looked back at him, her face serious with something he couldn’t get a read on. 

Or maybe he could and he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. He’d spent too long building an awareness of Darcy and her beautiful, expressive face not to know what she looked like when she’d made a decision about something. Clint’s throat suddenly felt tight with panic. They’d always been a timebomb but now they were in the final seconds. 

“Hey,” he said, touching her gently on the arm. “Really, I’m fine. I know it looked bad, but I’m good, okay?”

“Yeah, I know.” Darcy smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Then with a little more force behind her cheerfulness, “Hey, so what do you think we’d have to bribe Steve with to let us stay in the city for the day? I haven’t been in New York in a while. Thought it might be fun to do some touristy stuff.”

Christ, he didn’t want to run around the city pretending everything was okay. Not if it was just prolonging the inevitable. What was her plan here? Did she just want one more good day together before she dumped him on his ass for being too much work? Clint didn’t have it in him to give her that. Not today.

“I’m kinda tired. Think I just want to get back and take a nap, you know?”

The smile dropped off Darcy’s face. “You just woke up.” 

“Yeah, it was a long night.” Clint scratched his neck and looked away. “Sorry, maybe some other time.”

There was a cute little furrow between her eyebrows and Clint was torn between the need to kiss it away and the nauseating realization that pretty soon, that was the sort of thing he wouldn’t be able to do anymore. She may not be ready to pull the trigger yet, but she’d already made the decision. They were done.

* * *

The screen of his phone lit up his dark room, and Clint, busy staring at nothing, let out an annoyed sigh and checked the caller ID. Kate. He thought about letting it go to voicemail, but the last time he’d missed one of her calls, she’d come a little too close to losing a fight with MODOK. 

“Hey, Katie-Kate.”

“You okay? You sound tired.”

“I’m fine.” Sometimes people were tired. It wasn’t a big deal. “What’s up?”

“Something kind of big. Or it’s more nothing. I don’t know anymore.” 

“Kate.”

“Quentin Quire joined the team.”

Clint made a face. He didn’t like the guy, but he was unquestionably great to have on your side in a fight. “Oh. That’s—”

“Not even the worst part.”

Clint sighed, his eyelids dragging closed. Maybe he’d actually be able to sleep after they hung up. He’d been trying for hours, but even as exhausted as he was, sleep just wasn’t happening. He just needed a little nap. A mental reboot and then he could go try again with Darcy. Maybe she wasn’t as freaked out by him getting hurt as he thought. 

“Well don’t be a tease,” he said. “You called me, remember?”

“Okay, so obviously I can’t afford to say no to someone as powerful as Quentin. We need him, even if he is a total ass. But he also brought a significant source of funding with him.”

“That should be a good thing. What’s the catch?” 

“It’s reality TV. We’ve got a camera crew following us around at all hours. The money’s great, but the contract demanded ‘unfettered access.’” He could practically hear the air-quotes in her voice.

“Please tell me you didn’t already sign something.” 

Kate made a small noise of outrage. “Clint, I grew up surrounded by lawyers and business contracts. I think I know better than to—”

“That’s a yes.”

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to do?! Thanks a lot for all of your sage advice, but you’re about 24 hours too late.”

“How am I supposed to give you advice if you don’t tell me what’s going on?” What, did she call just to foist some of the blame onto him? It wasn’t his damn team no matter how much advice she asked for.

“I wouldn’t have to tell you if you were here!” Kate groaned in frustration, then sighed. “Sorry. I know you can’t be here all the time. I just—I wish you were.”

Clint sighed, too. “Yeah.”

“Look, I haven’t officially asked because I know you’re going to say no. I know there’s no way you’re going to leave the _Avengers_ to come babysit my plucky, ragtag group of fledgling heroes or whatever. But would you think about it? I want you to officially lead the team with me.”

“Katie…”

“Don’t say no right away. I just want you to think about it,” she said in a rush. Then sounding kind of lost, “I have no idea what I’m doing. Clearly. The only time any of it makes any sense is when you’re out here with us. We need your experience.”

“I’ll think about it.” Clint forced an extra note of reassurance into his voice. “Hey. Whether I come out there or not, you got this, Hawkeye.”

Kate sighed, sounding defeated. “Thanks, Hawkeye.”

They hung up and Clint went back to staring at empty darkness. This was without a doubt the worst move Kate had made since she left for LA, but it would probably shake out fine. With a powerful telepath on the team like Quire, she didn’t need Clint. Nobody really _needed_ an ordinary human who deliberately chose to fight with a bow and arrow on their team. 

She wanted him there, though. He wasn’t sure he could say that about anyone else right now.

* * *

The door to Clint’s bedroom was still closed, just like it had been all day. Not that Darcy had been pacing in front of it like a puppy who’d been sent outside for peeing on the rug or anything. She’d just checked now and again. Periodically. Like maybe once an hour. 

His proclaimed tiredness had obviously been bullshit. He’d had a rough night though, so she could understand if he needed some alone time to process. It was just that she’d had a whole romantic day out in the city planned, she’d even texted Natasha to ask her what his favorite restaurant was. 

Okay, she was being kind of selfish, but she was pretty fricking sure he wanted to hear what she had to say. Would have been better said over a beer with the New York skyline stretching out in front of them, but she’d say it here and now if he would just talk to her.

Darcy raised her fist to knock, then lowered it again, her stomach churning with a sudden burst of nervousness. What if he didn’t really love her? It could all be a pathetic case of wishful thinking. The way the guy leapt off the tops of buildings, he wouldn’t just hold back on something like this. Surely, if he was in love with her, he would have said something by now. 

Taking a deep breath, Darcy put her hand on the doorknob. She didn’t have to say anything, she could go in just to be with him. Snuggle up under his arm and take a nap with him if he really was that tired. She’d give him something nice to wake up to. 

Or she could just be a damn grown up and let the man have some space to get his head together. Darcy let her hand fall from the knob and she turned away. They could always talk later. A few more hours wouldn’t make a difference in the way she felt about him.


	25. Chapter 25

The sun wasn’t up yet, but of course Steve was. Clint hovered just outside the open door of the gym, watching the restrained, tightly controlled way he punched the bag hanging from a center beam. Anyone who didn’t know him would just think he was a regular guy working on his boxing form, but Clint knew he was actually working to control how much power went into each hit so he didn’t accidentally kill someone who didn’t need killing. It was a good thing the guy practiced pulling his punches so much, because there was a good chance Clint was about to get one right to the face.

Steve paused for a water break and Clint went inside. Time to get this over with. 

“You’re up early,” Steve said with mild surprise.

Clint bit down on a sarcastic comment. Really not the time. “Yeah, you got a minute?”

Steve’s eyebrows rose just a little bit higher and he took a seat on a nearby weight bench. “Sure, what’s up?”

“You remember Kate Bishop?”

“The other Hawkeye, sure. How’s she doing?”

“Good. She’s got a team out in LA now.”

“Yeah, I saw you guys handled that shark thing awhile back. It was good work. You got it wrapped up nice and quick. No casualties, minimal property damage. The rest of her squad’s pretty young, so I bet she appreciated your help.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Clint scratched at the back of his neck. Well, better just fucking spit it out. “I’m glad you think so ‘cause I’m quitting the team to go work with her full time.”

“Clint, that’s not funny,” Steve said with a sigh. “You can’t just keep threatening to quit.”

“It’s not a joke. I’m really quitting. America’s going to come pick me up first thing tomorrow.”

A muscle in Steve’s jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, exactly as pissed off as Clint thought he’d be. “You’d drop us, just like that? I thought we were your friends.”

Ouch.

“You are. I didn’t think changing jobs meant losing my friends.”

“Well what about Darcy?”

Clint inhaled sharply, his hands balling up into fists at his side. “What about Darcy? You need someone to use as bait again?”

“Is that why you’re leaving? You’re still mad at me for that?”

“Yeah, a little!” Clint groaned and rubbed his eyes. He’d managed a few hours of sleep after he spoke with Kate, but then he’d woken in the middle of the night, unable to do anything except turn this decision over and over in his mind. This was the only option that made any sense, no matter how hard he looked for a different one. The truth was, him leaving had everything and nothing to do with Darcy. Yeah, their relationship falling apart was the catalyst here, but this was a long time coming. 

“Look,” Clint continued, too tired to really be angry anymore, “in general, I think you do a great job leading this team. But there have been a few specific decisions you’ve made that have really pissed me off. That’s not the main reason why I want to go, but did it contribute to it? Yeah.”

Steve stood and walked a few paces, came back and stood with his hands on his hips, weighing his words before he spoke. “I’m sorry, Clint. I shouldn’t have done it and I guarantee you, I’ll never make the same mistake twice.”

“But it paid off, so you don’t really regret it.”

“No.” 

“So I gotta quit,” Clint said with a shrug. “Look, it’s like I said, it’s not just that. Kate really needs the help out there. The West Coast needs the Avengers just as bad as the East Coast does, but it takes us three hours to get there in the quinjet. That’s a lot of lives that could be lost in the commute time.”

“Wait, you guys want to use the Avengers name now, too?”

That was the other thing that had kept him up. If Clint was going to be serious about leading the team with Kate, they needed a name, they needed a headquarters, and they needed funding that didn’t come from a soul-sucking reality TV show. Now he just needed Steve to be on board with it, too.

“Sure, why not? We’re still friends, right?” Clint said with a crooked smile. He wanted that to be true but it might take some work after this. “Besides, you let Kate and America be Junior Avengers a few years back, why not let them use the title for real?”

Steve shook his head. “Being an Avenger means something. Not just to us, but to the insurance companies and payroll clerks and news reporters. You keep calling yourself an Avenger, we have to keep treating you like one.”

“Yeah, about that. Kate’s been getting her funding from a reality TV producer so far.”

There was a heavy pause while Steve took in all of the horrifying ramifications of that. Then he sighed and picked up his phone. “Let me see what I can do.”

* * *

Darcy turned the corner into the Avengers living quarters and her eyes immediately went to Clint's door. It had still been closed when she'd left for the lab that morning, but now it was cracked like he usually left it when he was around and didn't mind company. She didn't break into a run or anything, but there was a definite spring in her step as she closed the distance.

Now that she'd had time let the idea really marinate, Darcy knew she had to tell Clint how she felt. The words were so ready to burst out of her, it had taken all of her limited self-control not to just text it to him. And if he didn't say it back… Well, there was no point planning for something that wasn't going to happen.

She slipped inside and closed the door behind her. Clint was standing by his desk, all the drawers emptied out as he sorted through the contents. He didn't look up, though he had to have noticed she was there. Darcy glanced around Clint’s room and the rest of it looked just as ransacked as the desk. There was stuff in trash bags piled in the corner and two half-full duffel bags on the bed.

“Are you going somewhere?”

He finally looked up with a weird expression on his face, but then he went back to sorting through his endless stack of Men’s Health magazines. “Yeah. I’m going to go help out Kate for a while.”

“Oh. How long, like a week?”

Clint tossed down the magazines in his hand and rubbed his hand over his face. “Uh, no. I’m not sure. A while.”

Darcy looked at the trashbags and the dart board leaning against the side of the bed, something like panic buzzing at the back of her throat. “You’re not just going through this stuff to see what sparks joy, are you?”

Clint’s only answer was to turn away and dump a stack of papers into another trash bag. 

“Clint, are you moving to LA?”

“Yeah.” Into the trash went another stack.

“And you didn’t think to at least mention it to me before you started packing?” She sounded shrill and she knew it, but she couldn't make herself stop when it felt like someone was closing their hand around her throat. And boy did it suck that she wasn't just being dramatic. No, she knew exactly how that felt. 

Clint sighed and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, still not looking at her. “I just wanted to get the worst of it out of the way before I told you."

Darcy resolutely gulped down the panic, because it was never useful. Anger, though. Anger got shit done and she had no problem letting it take the lead here.

“So you could what, make a quick getaway?” she asked.

“Yes! I knew this conversation was going to fucking wreck me and I didn’t really think I’d be up to packing afterwards, so I started throwing my shit into bags the second you went to work. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“No! I want a fucking explanation! Why are you leaving?”

“I told you," he said with a groan of frustration, his head in his hands. "Kate needs help.” 

“So help her! You’ve been helping her! Why does that mean you have to move?”

“Because I quit the Avengers. I quit, okay?” Clint’s eyes, wet and anguished, met hers for just a moment, then he sniffed and looked away again. “They don’t need me here and Kate wants me to help her lead her team and I already know the two of us work well together and you don’t love me, so I’m just gonna go. I’m done here.”

Darcy blinked, not sure she heard him right. “What?” 

“Which part are you having trouble with?” Clint asked and he said it so viciously, it made Darcy take a step back.

“You’re leaving because you think I don’t love you?”

“You don’t!” Clint said, exploding with anger. Then he took a deep breath and in a voice that was hanging onto calm for dear life said, “You don’t. I’ve been trying to be patient ‘cause I figure you move slower with this kind of stuff, but I you’re never gonna feel the same way I feel about you. Not when stuff like yesterday keeps happening.”

This conversation was rapidly spiraling out of control and Darcy desperately wished she could call a timeout. “Okay, just so we’re super clear here, are you saying _you_ love _me_?”

“Yes, Darcy,” Clint said with a level of exaggerated patience that was really uncalled for. “I’m in love with you. And you don’t love me and I was fine with it but now I’m not. So I’m getting out of here because I figure the only thing more awkward than continuing to live with your ex after a breakup is living with two of them.”

“Wait a second, you don’t get to decide whether or not I’m in love with you and you sure as hell don’t get to break up with me over it. You’re right, it took me a while, but I do love you, asshole!”

“What?” Clint said stupidly.

God, he was so stupid, and she loved him so much, and all Darcy wanted to do was kiss that dumbfounded look right off his face. 

“I love you!” She stepped in close enough so she could poke his chest for emphasis. “I’m in love with you.”

The shell-shocked look on his face somehow increased, then Clint closed his hand around hers and looked away. "No, you don’t. Or maybe you think you do, but—”

Darcy spoke over him, outraged. “Are you fucking kidding—”

“No, let me finish. I'm gonna get hurt again and then I'll get back up again and that's gonna just keep happening until it can't anymore. And I know that freaks you out. I know it's too much. I know I have too much baggage."

"Are you done?" Darcy was just barely holding onto her anger at this point.

"Yeah."

"Good, because apparently I haven't been clear enough. I don't care how much baggage you have. It could be an entire jumbo jet's cargo hold full of baggage and I still wouldn't care. I'm choosing you. I love _you_." Darcy wiped furiously at her eyes and took a steadying breath. "Yes, I freaked out and I'll probably keep freaking out _because_ I love you, but that’s never going to be a reason for me to stop loving you.”

Clint stared up at her wonderingly and reached out a hand to cup her face. “Are you sure?”

Darcy gripped his hand tight, like if she held it tight enough she could keep him from leaving. “I’m so sure. Seeing you hurt was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’ve never been in love before, so that’s kind of terrifying, too. You can’t leave right when I just figured it out. I need help with this just as much as Kate needs help defending LA from radioactive squid or whatever.”

He reeled her in and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. Darcy stroked his hair and they stayed that way for a moment, holding each other and breathing together. Then he sighed and tipped his head back to look at her.

“I still have to go. I quit. It started out as some kind of half-baked escape plan, but talking to Steve, it felt like the right decision to make. These guys don’t need me, but I can be useful out there. With me there, they’ve got official Avengers backing. Steve’s going to talk to Stark about some limited funding for us, maybe scare up a decent headquarters for us to use.”

“So you’re what, franchising? Like Arby’s?”

Clint huffed out a laughed. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, can we try out doing this long distance?”

Darcy looked down at his hopeful face and found the idea of only seeing it through a computer screen impossible. “Absolutely not."

His face fell. "Oh."

"I want to come with you,” she said quickly before his disappointment could really sink in. Oh god, they shouldn't be allowed to talk to each other. They were terrible at it.

“How would that work out?” He asked cautiously. 

“I don’t know." She really didn't, but her mind was already spinning with possibilities. "I need to talk to a few people. But if I can make it work, can I come with you?”

“Yes. Are you kidding? Of course.”

Darcy laughed giddily and leaned down to kiss him. He pulled her down onto the bed, twisting them so he was on top, and tenderly brushed her hair back from her face.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

And that was all that needed to be said for quite a while.

* * *

Step one was easy. All she had to do was shoot off a quick text to Vanessa and she immediately got back, **YASSSSS!!! give me a couple days and I'll pull together a list of Cali trips for you.**

Boom, back-up employment secured.

Step two was currently digging into a bowl of dinner cereal and surrounded by bored Avengers who would love nothing more than to eavesdrop on an argument.

Jane lifted her eyes to Darcy when she sat across from her at the table, but didn't stop her munching. "Hey. Did you finish proofreading the latest draft yet?”

"Yeah. It's saved on the server."

"Great, thanks," Jane said and went back to eating.

Darcy's eyes slid to where Natasha was rooting through the refrigerator and Thor was flipping through channels on the couch and Sam was blatantly staring at Natasha's ass while she bent over the crisper. This was a terrible time and place to do this but asking to speak to Jane in private would only alert them all that something was up, and anyway, Darcy didn't want to wait on an answer.

"So, I'm—I've been thinking. About work."

Jane looked up again, but merely raised an eyebrow, so Darcy barreled on ahead.

"And how we have this whole you write, I edit, you work, I make sure you stop working occasionally _thing_ pretty much down to a science by now."

"Uh huh."

Nobody had stopped what they were doing, but Darcy could feel them all listening. She certainly had Jane's undivided attention if the narrowed eyes and slowly building wave of suspicion rolling off of her was anything to go by.

"I mean, we're so in tune with each other, I could probably do my job from space and you wouldn't even notice."

Jane put down her spoon. "Are you serious right now? You just got our funding increased and now you're quitting?"

"No! I am emphatically not quitting." Darcy slashed her hand through the air for emphasis. "I just want to move to LA."

Darcy looked over and yep, Natasha was openly watching her now.

"What's in LA?" Natasha asked.

Darcy's jaw dropped open. "He didn't even tell _you_?!"

Natasha reeled back like Darcy had hit her, then marched off to Clint's room. Seconds later, she reemerged, dragging Clint down the hall by the ear.

"Ow. Owwwww! Let me go you sadist. I was gonna tell you!" Clint's yowls trailed off as they got further away.

Bucky appeared in the doorway to his room. “Did I just see Tasha on her way to kick Barton’s ass?”

“Yeah, let’s go watch,” Sam said. 

“What’s the reason this time?”

“Does she need one?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t need one to watch.”

Jane turned away from the receding comedy duo and arched an eyebrow at Darcy. "I take it he's what's going to be in LA?"

"Yeah."

Jane picked her spoon back up. Set it down again. 

“You’re just going to leave me? After—After everything we’ve been through together?”

Jane’s face was all twisted up with hurt and confusion and it knocked the breath out of Darcy. She swallowed and looked away for a second. 

“Huh. I really didn’t think you’d be this upset," she said after a moment.

“Yeah, neither did I.” Jane pushed her bowl into the center of the table and crossed her arms. “I just can’t believe you would just abandon our work like this.”

“ _Our_ work? Jane, you take every opportunity you can to tell me I’m not a real scientist.”

“You have to know I don’t mean that by now. You were a co-author on my last two papers!”

“That’s just because I caught that anomaly in the data—”

“—that completely changed my findings and led to two other research teams recreating our experiments.”

A bottle of tequila thunked down on the table in between them, followed by two shot glasses. Jane and Darcy both looked up at Thor, who was smiling at them fondly.

“The two of you have never settled a serious argument while sober. Don’t break the tradition now.”

Jane huffed and poured out the shots. “I’m not the one breaking tradition.”

They both tapped their glasses twice on the table, clinked them together, and knocked them back in unison. The alcohol burned and made Darcy’s eyes water, but she reached for the bottle to pour another round. Thor smiled proudly, kissed Jane on the head, then left them to their arguing and bad decision making.

“So I don’t think you heard the part where I’m not quitting," Darcy said.

“I heard it, it just doesn’t make any sense. Did you suddenly develop a teleportation mutation? Because I don’t know how else you’re going to make it to work every day if you plan on moving to LA.” Jane took her shot and then made a disgusted face at Darcy. “You really want to live in _LA_?”

“Kind of looking forward to it, actually. I miss civilization. JARVIS is handy to have around, but he's no replacement for being able to walk into a Target and buy seven things I didn't know I wanted at ten o'clock at night.” Darcy chased that statement with the tequila and idly wished Thor had thought to bring them some limes, too. “Anyway, there are these things called computers, maybe you’ve heard of them?”

Jane folded her arms and sat back in her seat with a sulky look on her face. “Shut up, I hate you."

“No, I’m pretty sure you love me and can’t imagine life without me. It’s cool, I’ll still be your emotional support Darcy. You’re just going to have to hunt down your own highlighters from now on. I’ll give you a hint, there are almost always like twenty by the coffee machine.”

“So what exactly would I be paying you for?”

“Well _apparently_ , you keep me around for all of the crucial science discoveries I make.”

“That was one time.”

“You got two papers out of it. And then there was the time I noticed Thor arrived via wormhole—.”

“Einstein-Rosen Bridge.”

“—which not only hugely impacted your career, but some might argue was the beginning of your whole epic, romance for the ages, true love thing.”

“You’re taking credit for _that_ now?”

“Anyway, I think that’s pretty good odds I’ll do it again.”

“Twice doesn’t make a pattern.” Jane poured another round of shots and nudged the glass closer to Darcy. “But just in case it happens a third time, I guess I better keep you around. I'm going to have to set a timer for coffee breaks or something, though.”

"Please. We both know I'll be the one setting the timer." Then Darcy gasped, feeling every drop of the liquor on her empty stomach. "We can get you an intern! A real one this time, with a salary and everything. A tiny one, but the extra funding should cover it."

"And hopefully not a secret nazi, either," Jane added.

Darcy flapped her hand. "Yeah, no, I'll actually vet them this time instead of picking the first moderately cute guy off the street."

"That'd be nice." Jane frowned and wrinkled her nose adorably. "We wouldn't have to cancel Hawaii, would we?"

"No way. I already accepted for you and bought tickets and everything." Darcy frowned as she realized there was yet another step to her ever-growing relocation plan. "Shit, I'll have to change my flight to leave from LA."

Jane did an adorable little fistpump and reached for the bottle again but Darcy slid it out of her reach. 

"Oh, come on," Jane said. "I'm barely tipsy."

"Do not make me make you walk in a straight line right now." Darcy stood and she felt a little wobbly herself. "Thor gave me an idea. He wants traditions, we'll show him traditions."

Jane cocked her head to the side, then she let out a little squeal as she twigged on to what Darcy was hinting at. "I'll check and see if we have marshmallows."

* * *

Clint and the others had returned from the gym to find a tiny bonfire in the middle of the helipad and Jane and Darcy in the midst of dragging chairs out of the building. Barnes had taken one look at their setup and declared that they needed more firewood and Steve and Thor had immediately taken over the furniture moving duties and pretty soon everyone had pitched in to do something to make this impromptu going away party happen.

“This was a good idea,” Clint said once they were all settled around the now blazing fire. He had Darcy on his lap, a beer in his hand, and his friends all around him. 

“Thanks,” Darcy said, curling into him further. “Jane and I used to do this all the time back in New Mexico. We had a firepit on the roof and every time we’d get mad at each other, one of us would go sulk up on the roof until the other one came up there with a bottle of tequila and we’d yell at each other and light shit on fire until we felt better.”

“Doesn’t sound very safe.”

The look she gave him said he was one to talk about safety measures and he countered that with a rueful shrug. 

“This is better,” Darcy said. “I wish we hadn’t waited until our last night here to do this, just didn’t think about it before now.”

There was a lot Clint wished they could go back and do differently, but thinking that way was nothing but a waste of time. Despite his best efforts, everything was turning out okay now. He just had to try and do better not to fuck it up from here on out.

Darcy, who had been peacefully staring into the fire, suddenly sat up with a gasp. “Sam, you know what we never did?”

“The Mighty Ducks? I was just thinking that, too.”

“Oh, I loved those movies!” Jane said. “The third one was my favorite.”

Darcy and Sam both looked at her in silent disgust. Clint was with them. That scene in the second one where the kids rollerblade through the Mall of America to round up the team was the best part of the whole franchise.

“What? Joshua Jackson was really cute in that one.” She huffed at their continued silent judgement and settled back against Thor’s chest, absently patting him on the cheek. “Whatever, I was fifteen. I have more discerning taste now.”

“Bet she was a Pacey fan, too,” Clint said quietly into Darcy’s ear and she laughed softly into her sleeve.

“Well it’s not like we’ll never see you guys again, right?” Bruce said.

Wanda sat forward as though the possibility had just occurred to her. “Yes, you will visit, won’t you? Both of you?”

“They’d better,” Natasha said in a warning tone.

There was no doubt in Clint's mind she’d track him down in California to hand deliver an ass kicking if he went even one day past whatever she deemed too long. She’d gone easy on him earlier, at least. Knocked him around just enough to show him she cared. It wasn't the kind of show of affection he'd take from anyone else, but it was the only kind that worked with them.

Before Clint could even try to reassure them, Steve stood, his face set in speech-making mode. They all turned to him, their senses honed after years of working with him to know when he was about to say something important.

“They’ll be back,” he said. “In fact, Clint, I’m going to need you and the rest of your team out here in about a week. I spoke to Tony and about thirty lawyers earlier today and it’s official. You and Kate are the co-leaders of the West Coast Avengers.”

Darcy let out a whoop that was echoed by Thor and Sam, and then the rest of the group joined in with a round of applause that was disproportionately loud for the number of people gathered. Clint pressed his face into Darcy's hair, embarrassed by the attention for just a second before his old sideshow training kicked in. He untangled himself from Darcy and stood to take a sweeping bow, then shook Steve's proffered hand.

"Thanks, old man. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," Steve said, looking so damn confident that Clint felt his own confidence raise a few notches. "Tony wanted to come tell you himself, but apparently he's in Thailand. Instead he's going to have Happy meet you out at one of Howard's old SI think tanks tomorrow. It's been mothballed since the 90s, but he thinks it should work as your new headquarters."

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that." 

Clint knew his new team could keep working out of Kate's tiny PI office for as long as they needed to. Things were a little different with Darcy coming along, though. She might not have a problem bouncing around wherever the wind took her, but he wanted to give her a place she could call home.

"You're not just our friend, not just a teammate, you're family. Both of you." Steve paused to catch Darcy's eye. “And we look out for family. Even when they're on the other side of the country.”

“Hear, hear!” Barnes called out, raising his beer, and everyone joined in the cheer.

Darcy held out Clint’s beer and he clinked it against hers before cuddling back up with her on their chair. For the briefest moment, surrounded by this family that had found him in his darkest moments, the woman he loved in his arms, Clint wondered why he wanted to change a thing about it.

Then the moment passed and he knew, without a doubt, he was excited to move on to something new. They’d created something fantastic and unheard of here. Saved lives, saved an entire _planet_ worth of lives. Now it was time to see if he could recreate that magic with a new group of people. The new team might not turn into a family the way this one had, but they might, and there was only one way to find out. 

And best of all, Darcy would still be right there with him.


	26. Epilogue

The West Coast Avengers compound was a relic of the 70s. Abandoned in the 90s after Howard's death and just barely kept from being condemned ever since, it still had the original orange shag carpeting in the sunken living room. It had been home to some of the brightest minds in the world back in the day, but now was just a time capsule of bad design ideas. They were all working together on fixing it up on a shoestring budget. Thankfully, the structure was still solid, it was just ugly. God, it was so ugly. 

It had a pool, though, so that was cool.

Darcy had claimed a room in a different wing from where all their bedrooms were to use as an office. It had only taken three months surrounded by wood paneling and marigold yellow walls before she couldn’t stand it anymore. Clint and the others had been called out on a special favor for the mayor the night before and when she woke to a still empty house, she figured the best way to distract herself from worrying about them would be to finally do something about her office. 

Three trips to Home Depot and half a day later, Darcy finally had something nice to look at. She’d started with the west wall since that was the one she spent most of her day facing. It still needed another coat or two, but she was pretty satisfied with the way it was coming along. In fact, she had just decided to take a break to scrounge up some lunch when she heard the tell-tale _schwa_ of America’s portal followed by voices out in the courtyard. 

“—bites anything other than a super villain, he’s out,” Clint was saying as Darcy wandered out to the open common area. Lucky padded along next to her, his tail wagging a lot slower than it usually did when he was reuniting with Clint. He had his head held low, too, like he was sniffing out something unusual.

“Deal!” Gwen said. 

Darcy and Lucky rounded the corner and nearly crashed into Gwen, who was holding—No, that couldn’t be right.

“Is that a baby land shark?” Darcy asked, because her brain couldn’t come up with anything else no matter how hard she tried.

“Yes! His name is Jeff and I love him.” Gwen held Jeff out to Lucky. “Give him a sniff, Luck. Isn’t he great?”

Lucky sneezed in Jeff’s face and made a mournful whine, leaning into Darcy’s leg. 

“Um, he’s really cute, Gwen.”

“I know! I’m going to go see if he likes the pool.”

“NO,” yelled everyone who was in hearing distance.

Gwen huffed and stomped off, thankfully not in the direction of the pool, Jeff looking back them all over her shoulder with—an admittedly adorable—toothy grin.

Clint came over and kissed Darcy hello and touched his forehead to hers with a tired sigh. “So how’s your day going so far? Because it’s been twelve straight hours of that, for me.”

“Come on, I’ll show you,” she said and tugged him down the hall to her office.

“Ta daaa,” she said with a Vanna-esque sweep of her arms. “So it needs another coat and I want to do the other three walls a light gray so it’s not overwhelming, but it looks nice, right?”

Clint was staring at the wall with a vague, amazed expression on his face. “I like the color.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Darcy bit her lip. “I took your spare vest in and had them do a color match. You don’t mind, right?”

Clint spun her into his arms and kissed her so soundly, the whole room fell away for a minute. It was just the press of his hand on her waist, the feel of his skin under her fingertips, and the taste of his lips on hers. 

“Wow,” Darcy said when they separated. “What do I get if I paint all four walls purple?”

“Keep it just the one wall. You’re right, all four would be too much. You want some help?”

“No, it’s okay. I know you’re probably tired.”

Clint rolled his eyes and started stripping off his uniform vest. “I’m gonna help. The sooner we finish, the sooner we get to christen your new office.”

“Pretty sure we already did that. Twice.”

“Before it was just a room you worked in. Now it’s yours.”

It was true, this space was all hers. Clint had even bought her a little fern to sit in the window because he was determined that she own something that couldn’t be packed in a suitcase. He didn’t _say_ that was the reason, but she saw the way he pouted every time she packed for one of her trips and all trace of her disappeared from their bedroom. 

The idea of permanence was weird after so much of her life spent roaming around, but she didn’t hate it. Just like that ring she’d found tucked away in the back of Clint’s sock drawer. They weren’t there yet, and that was probably why it was still hidden away, but they were on a clear course headed straight for it. And again, Darcy didn’t hate it. In fact, she kind of really freaking loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, HUGE thank you to everyone who read and commented and kudos'd along the way. This story started out as my 2018 NaNo and I only picked it back up this summer because I was recovering from a back injury and needed to keep my mind occupied while I was laid up. So thank you so, so much. Not only did you help me finish my first ever novel-length piece of fiction (which I'm still like !!!!! over), you helped keep me sane during a hard few months. 
> 
> 💜💜💜

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to leave a kudos, or you can really make my day and leave a comment.
> 
> You can also reblog it on Tumblr, [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/613851157656436736/clintdarcy-plan-f-the-hotel-room-door-clicked).


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